


Eyes turned Skywards

by antigrav_vector



Series: (R)BB fics - all pairings [18]
Category: Captain America (MCU), Iron Man (MCU), Iron Man Noir, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Marvel Noir, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Post Canon, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Wingfic, Angst, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Comic Book Science, F/M, Historical References, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, I did way too much research for this, M/M, Magic, Mind Control, Mission Fic, Multi, POV Multiple, Polyamory, Rescue Missions, Smut, Soulmates, Threesome, Torture, Villain Death, Wingfic, but nothing too explicitly detailed, lots of smut, mashup of canons, no really, non consensual medical procedures (kinda), references to real world events, references to real world places, this got way WAY out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-07-20 15:58:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 49
Words: 142,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16140608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector
Summary: After one of their raids on the many HYDRA facilities that kept popping up, the Howling Commandos find someone ... unexpected, on their way to their extraction point. It's Steve who recognizes the man, despite what's been done to him. It's Bucky who realises what even finding the man means to them. That's just the beginning of their struggle.





	1. [Tony POV]

**Author's Note:**

> "For once you have tasted flight you will walk the earth with your eyes turned skywards, for there you have been and there you will long to return." --Leonardo da Vinci
> 
> Presented with thanks to my beta reader [bennettmp339](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bennettmp339/pseuds/bennettmp339) and my test reader [Quarra](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Quarra).
> 
> Art by cobaltmoony will be embedded in the fic, as well as being [linked here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16425809).
> 
> Any text in languages other than English will either be made clear from the context or not required for the scene to make sense, but will have alt-text translations, for those who wish to know precisely what's going on. And as in all of my longfics, the footnotes are clickable and link back to the text.
> 
> As to posting: because this thing is MASSIVE (no, really, I'm not even kidding; it's over 130k and I'm still working on the ending, jfc), it will be posting every second day, starting today and continuing until the official posting date of November 3rd.
> 
> Also, because the POV changes with each chapter, the POV character will be named in the chapter title.

"You are aware, I'm sure," Commander Strucker drawled, "that the Zemo formula will break you down until you are moldable as clay."

Tony glared at him from his half-mangled armour. Strucker had him, and there was no escape, this time. Not unless Jarvis and Rhodes were willing to turn the airship around into a hail of enemy fire that was liable to send them crashing to the ground and render their only transport useless. He said nothing, maintaining a stony silence.

"Oh," Strucker added with a pleased expression, "your spirit will make you that much more fun to break. We know precisely where your weak point is, Mr. Stark, and we will not hesitate to use it."

That was the problem. Tony forced himself not to react.

Strucker turned his attention to the goons standing behind him and to his left. "Bring the artifact," he demanded. "I wish to test the full extent of its capabilities on a conscious strong-willed subject before we turn him to our banner."

Oh, that didn't sound good. Tony tried to force his racing thoughts to slow, and failed. What was this artifact? What could it do? Why did it matter that he was strong-willed? Would he even live through this test? Strucker seemed to think he would, but Tony knew just how low the charge on his repulsor pump was. And it was an 'artifact', which implied magic. What kind of magic? Was it something that required spilled blood? Or maybe it was meant to control the mind and will of the subject?

Tony shuddered, thankful that the armour hid his reaction to the thought. He'd come across such artifacts before. Even touching them had made him feel slimy, and nevermind that he hadn't been trying to use them. Hell, he'd actively been trying to _avoid_ doing that, even by accident, in those moments.

It didn't take long for the goons to reappear, carrying a trunk measuring about one meter by a half meter that was loaded down with locks and other assorted security measures.

Commander Strucker waited until the goons stopped in front of him and saluted with their free hands, then opened the trunk. The sequential clicks of the locks popping open and the creak of the lid's hinges made Tony close his eyes hard briefly.

Whatever was about to happen, he was certain it would not be pleasant for him.

When he forced his eyes back open, Strucker's face was bathed in a blueish glow that made him look even more sinister. He made an abrupt gesture, and the goons stepped aside, still holding the trunk. He caught Tony's eyes and held up the artifact so that Tony could see it. It was a cube, about ten centimeters on a side, and it glowed brightly white-blue. He'd heard rumours among some of his contacts that the Cosmic Cube existed, and here it was. In Strucker's hands.

"Hold still now," Strucker told him, enjoying Tony's apprehension and revulsion to the hilt, "this is going to hurt."

On the heels of that statement, the world dissolved into a blur of agony. Tony was pretty sure he screamed, for all that he couldn't hear it. It felt like the skin on his back was being flayed open and left to bleed freely. His heart stumbled in his chest, fighting to beat even halfway evenly under the strain of the adrenaline that had to be flooding his system and the quickly fading power available to his repulsor pump.

The world faded to black.

Some indeterminate length of time later, he fell face first onto the floor, the sensation of the cool stone under his skin distant and his muscles twitching and out of his control. It only dimly registered that they'd pried him out of his armour somehow. That mattered a lot less than the sensation of blinding heat coming from under his shoulder blades and upper back, though. He couldn't make his eyes focus. Couldn't pull in enough air. He was alive for now, his heart somehow still beating, but under this kind of pressure he was going to suffocate long before Strucker allowed the torture to end.

It wasn't a merciful end, by any means, but he would take that over being brainwashed into serving HYDRA.

A tearing sensation ran down his back on either side of his spine, accompanied by what seemed like entire rivers of his blood, and he felt the scream resonate in his chest and throat that time, for all that he still heard nothing.

It was too much for him to bear, weakened by the battle beforehand and the way the repulsor pump was growing less and less helpful. When unconsciousness rose up to wrap him in darkness a second time, he welcomed it. Let death take him while he was out. And if it didn't, well, he'd have a short respite before Strucker turned him over to the 'scientists' for the promised 'treatment'.


	2. [Steve POV]

They'd been on their way back to London, legging it home after destroying one more HYDRA research base out of the seemingly hundreds that the organization had built, when the skies overhead had opened up in a blaze of lightning.

"That doesn't look natural," Morita commented.

Steve made a sound that approximated a chuckle. "No, it doesn't. And those are German airships that are falling out of the sky."

"We gonna go investigate?" Bucky asked, sounding like curiousity was about to get the better of him, regardless of the danger involved.

Dumdum grinned at him. "Don't see why not," he declared.

Steve pulled a rolled up map of the area out of the dedicated pouch on his belt. They were about ten klicks north of Castle Donar, a known Axis stronghold and a suspected HYDRA base. If their enemies had something on hand that could cause this much havoc, he and the Howlies needed to at least try to get whatever it was out of the Germans' grubby hands. It didn't matter that whatever it was had taken down German airships; he had to assume that had been a malfunction of some sort rather than the actions of friendly forces. "We'd be running in without backup, and effectively AWOL," he pointed out, knowing that his team would be able to hear the unspoken approval in his voice, "it'll be risky."

Dernier sneered. "Bah!"

Gabe nodded. "Everything we do is risky. That's practically the job description. Well, aside from being shot at."

"Let's go, then." Bucky brought his assault rifle down off his shoulder until he could fire from the hip if need be, and checked the clip.

Steve couldn't help the bemused smile he felt creasing his face. "Alright," he conceded. "Keep an eye out for anything suspicious. We're running silent until we reach the castle gates."

There was no town at the base of the hill the castle occupied. It had been built long after the towns in the area, though it was styled to look far older. The end result was a fortress that looked imposing and impregnable, and loomed over the countryside like a lone broody sentinel.

It took them an hour to get close, and when they did, the sounds of fighting reached them. An airship, much sleeker than the ones the Germans favored, hung in the air just outside the range of the guns mounted on the castle walls. It periodically fired back at the Germans ineffectively, but didn't leave.

Steve took one look and knew that it was only a matter of time before whoever that was got blown out of the air. The lone airship was flying American colors, though, he noted, even as he wondered how on God's green earth a lone Allied or private ship like that had gotten this far into enemy territory.

"They're not gonna last long," Bucky muttered, taking in the scene himself, and echoing Steve's thoughts. "We gotta help 'em, Steve."

"How do you propose to do that, Sergeant?" Monty asked him dryly. "We don't have a strike force big enough to take and hold that fortress, and we've used up most of our explosives."

"Maybe whoever's in that whale of a blimp can help us out," Gabe suggested.

"Ah, mon ami," Dernier held up the remaining packs of explosive he carried, and caught Monty's eyes. "J'en ai plus qu'assez."

That said, he turned and raised an eloquent eyebrow at Steve.

Steve nodded back, "Alright. We have no idea what the layout of this place is, so we'll have to settle for playing distraction. Dernier, think you can blow a hole in the walls near the base of that castle? I want a new door that'll get us in on the ground floor, or maybe a little below if we can swing it. Let's stay away from those guns on the walls if we can."

He got a round of nods and determined expressions in return, and then without another word the team was in motion. They had no idea where the watchmen were posted, so they picked the best concealed approach and Dernier just made a run for it. He got to the wall without being spotted, and Steve felt the anticipation start flooding through him.

Despite having no intel on what lay beyond the walls, he could just feel that this was important somehow. There was an odd sensation of weight in the air, as though someone was watching over the whole scene, watching the Howlies and hoping like hell that they succeeded. While he processed that sensation, Dernier finished planting his explosives and hastily ducked back into the shadows with the rest of them. As one, they all ducked behind any cover they had. Meantime the whole team knew just how short Dernier cut his fuses, and, sure enough, a beat later there was a loud boom that rattled through their bones and turned the castle into something more like a kicked up anthill.

Shouts went up from the men on the walls and floodlights flicked on. The Commandos ran hell for leather in through the entrance they'd made and started tearing through anything they found. The room behind the wall they'd blown up turned out to be a laboratory of some kind, though anything that had been in it was just as destroyed as said wall. A couple of men in white coats lay on the floor, either unconscious or dead. Steve paid them no mind, leaping for the door instead and bringing his shield down on the knob. It sheared off and he kicked the door open.

The corridor beyond was chaos, filled with panicked men in labcoats rushing for whatever exits they needed. Steve heard Bucky open fire, and the others followed suit. Steve just started ploughing his way through the crowd, shield first, until something stopped him in his tracks. He had no idea why, but whatever it was that had made this self-assigned mission feel so important had just peaked. Ascribing it to the gut instinct he generally followed in battle, he took a quick glance around and tried to work out what had set him off. There was nothing obviously different about the corridor walls to his left and right, save for a heavy door, locked and barred more securely than any of the others they'd passed so far.

"What is it, Cap?" Gabe prompted him. "You hear something?"

It had happened before that his heightened senses had saved all of their hides. "I dunno, but I'm gonna find out," he replied.

There was nothing else nearby that could have prompted the reaction, and everything in him was insisting he check this out. That there was something important nearby. He considered the door for a moment. The hinges were on the outside.

"Better act fast," Monty advised. "They'll wise up to where we are soon, if they haven't already. We might lose our escape route."

With a nod, Steve used his shield to cut the hinges, then his strength to haul the heavy wood out of its frame. And stopped short, stunned by the sight that met his eyes.

Lying chained to a table but still taking up most of the room, lay a man with _wings_. And not just any wings, either. Those looked big enough that they might even be usable. They stretched what had to be almost three meters to either side of the man's torso and hung awkwardly over the sides of the table to brush at the floor, the feathers a rusty red color and longer than Steve's arm. Steve wasn't sure why the man seemed to have no tail to go with the wings, but even out cold he was beautiful.

"Holy shit," Morita muttered. "We have to get him out of there. Come on, Monty."

And he was hurt, Steve realised. The stranger was nude from the waist up, and there was some weird kind of metal-and-glass plate over his heart. Steve swallowed hard at the sight. Odds were good that HYDRA had done that to him, and damned if that knowledge didn't make Steve want to raze the whole castle to the ground, but they had to get this guy out of here first.

The sounds of lots of booted feet coming down the corridor broke him back out of his reverie, and Steve growled a few curses under his breath. "Get him on his feet if you can. Carry him if you can't. Our time just ran out."

Bucky nodded and took up a position with his back to the side of the doorframe. "I'll cover you, Cap."

Steve grinned. He launched himself through the door with enough speed that he had to plant one foot high on the wall opposite in order to turn to face the squad coming for them. No, it was more than a squad. Bucky's first few shots rang out, and they struck true, too. Four men in the first rank went down with neat holes in their foreheads, and the next four ranks tripped over them. Steve launched his shield at the next rank, and they went down too.

As the shield smacked back into his hand, the squads of men started firing back at him, but by then it was too late; the Commandos were back out of the room and shooting, and the tight quarters hampered them a lot less than the HYDRA soldiers.

In a strategic retreat so smooth it belonged in a textbook, they withdrew with their rescued bird-man, and left a wide swath of destruction behind them.

Once they were back outside the castle and out of range of the guns, Gabe looked skyward. "You know, in all the explosions we forgot about our friends in the blimp."

"True," Monty agreed. "But we have no idea who they might be. If it's a German ship flying American colors... Sergeant, come take this guy for a minute. I need to get at my pack."

Bucky shrugged and did so, taking the man's weight. One limp arm went over Bucky's shoulders and he grabbed the unconscious man's wrist to keep it there. Bucky's other arm went around the guy's waist, and he froze. Steve watched his best friend and mate carefully. Something about Bucky's expression was... off. As though he'd realised something unpleasant. But he said nothing, so Steve decided he would ask Bucky about whatever that had been later. That same gut instinct that had driven him to check the reinforced room was insisting that this was something he needed to follow up on. That it could even be something that might interfere with their bond. Not even the team knew that they were mated. He and Bucky had kept it a secret so that they wouldn't be separated. Soulmates were barred from serving in the same unit, and both of them knew that if they were sent to different units there was no possible way things could end well.

But he knew Bucky's expressions. Knew that bit-into-something-unexpectedly-sour pinch to his brow. Something big had happened when Bucky picked up their bird-man, and Steve had a suspicion he knew what it was.

Dumdum turned to their radioman and spoke, breaking into Steve's thoughts. "You gonna try to signal them, Monty?"

"Well," came the dry response, "I have this book of call-response passcodes. What the bloody hell else am I going to use it for? A paperweight?"

Steve forced a half-smile. "Try it. Something tells me that airship and our rescue here might be connected and I doubt they're flying false colors."

He had no reason to think so, but it felt right, and his instincts had only rarely failed him in the field.

Bucky gave him a weird look. "I know that saying about coincidences, but really Steve? You really think a guy with wings needs an airship? More likely that the guys in the airship were chasing him or something."

Turning to look back at Bucky, Steve realised that the bird-man had a tail after all; it had simply been hidden by the lighting in the castle because it had somehow ended up crammed under the man's pants. That had to be uncomfortable.

Gabe looked thoughtful. "What's an American airship want with a bird man anyway?"

They were all very good questions and valid points, but Steve shook his head. "Try it. And even if I'm wrong, either we can hitch a ride back out of enemy territory or steal their airship."

That was the moment the bird-man chose to groan and stir. Bucky's hold on him tightened. "Look alive, boys, he's comin' 'round," he announced unnecessarily.

Naturally, that got everyone's attention, and they all turned to look at their rescue just as his eyes fluttered open and he started struggling to get free. One wing caught Bucky in the back of the head and the impact sent him sprawling. Gabe and Jim caught both of them before Bucky could hit the ground or the bird-man could fly off, trying to calm the rescued man down. "Hey, shhh, you're with friends," Gabe told him, "breathe. That's it. We got you out of there."

Then bright blue eyes caught Steve's and he stared, finally realising just who the hell they'd hauled out of that castle. As he watched, those blue eyes jumped from his to his uniform, and then to the rest of the Howlies, one by one, taking everything in, and Steve could see the shock of recognition go through their rescued bird man.

"Holy shit," Bucky was the one to voice what they were all thinking. "You're Tony Stark."

Monty huffed and turned to their guest. "I thought you were still running around New York running Director Fury's errands. What the hell are you doing here? And why do you have wings?"

Stark took a breath and made a pained noise. "Ow. I was. Well, to a point. I was in New York but Fury has no authority over me, thanks."

He made a move to pull away from Bucky, but Bucky was having none of it. "And the wings?"

"Zemo and Strucker. Decided they wanted to have a little fun." Stark winced again when the wing not tucked under Bucky's arm twitched and drooped until it brushed against the ground, apparently without his say-so. Morita folded it back up against his back without a word and Bucky adjusted his hold to keep that one in place, too. "I didn't expect I'd still be alive, right now," Stark added. "Where are we?"

"Maybe a klick away from the castle, north by northwest," Steve told him. "There's an airship flying American colors nearby, and we're--"

"Shit," Stark cut him off and lurched toward Monty and their radio. "Jarvis is still here? The moron. Give me that."

Bucky staggered a little as Stark almost pulled him off balance. Steve had to grab Stark's free arm in one gloved hand to keep them from tumbling to the ground and got a pained sound out of the man in the process. At least Stark wasn't visibly bleeding. They'd have to make sure Stark got proper medical attention at some point, though. "Easy there, Mr. Stark. Just tell us what frequency you need. Monty?"

Looking bemused, Monty nodded. "I'm listening."

Stark hesitated, as though giving them the frequency was on par with revealing state secrets. Maybe to him it was, Steve allowed. He did go on missions with an even smaller team than the Commandos were, and right now he was vulnerable.

After a few seconds he nodded back at Monty. "One-four-one-point-six-five megaherz," he said, suddenly sounding like he was at the end of his endurance.

The harsh rasp in Stark's voice made Bucky look up sharply. "You need to lie down," he told Stark firmly and got a nearly voiceless chuckle in reply.

"Get me aboard my airship first," Stark replied, as the radio crackled to life in Monty's hands.

"Stark," a roughened voice broke through the static on the line, "if you don't give me your coordinates ten minutes ago, I am leaving you there!"

Stark freed his arm from Steve’s grip and held his hand out for the radio receiver. Monty handed it to him with a shrug, moving to stand close enough that the cord wasn't at risk of getting yanked out of its socket.

"Jarvis," he said, his strength visibly fading now, "I'm a klick north-northwest of Donar. Handing the radio over now."

Without waiting for a reply he shoved the radio back at Monty, and sagged in Bucky's arms.

"Stark? Tony!" The voice drifting up into the air sounded very distressed.

Bucky caught Steve's eyes, then Monty's. "Better calm that guy down, whoever he is," he told their radioman. "Or we might catch a few bullets with our asses."

Gabe sighed dramatically. "How do we always get tangled up in these weird messes?"

"Pretty sure it's the Cap's fault," Morita offered.

Dernier laughed. "Au moins, ce n'est pas ennuyeux."

"Jarvis? No, I can't put him back on. No, he's passed out, and definitely needs medical attention," Monty was explaining. "We broke him out. Yes, we. Surely you're familiar with Captain America. Tall man what runs 'round wearing a bloody flag? Carries a shield instead of a sensible weapon? Yes. After this, we expect a lift home for our troubles. Good. In ten minutes we're moving on. We can't stay longer."

When Monty hung up with a huff, Dumdum tipped his hat back on his head. "Well? What's the verdict?" He demanded.

"We need to be ready to move in about five minutes. Mr. Jarvis is bringing the airship around in good faith to pick us up. And if Mr. Stark isn't in the shape I described, we will, quote, 'be taking a short walk out of an airlock at ten thousand feet'." Monty reported, sounding amused.

Morita laughed, delighted. "I think I'm gonna like this guy."


	3. [Bucky POV]

True to his word, this Jarvis character, whoever he was, brought the airship they'd seen to their location, spotting them handily and lowering the ship down until the cabin floor just about brushed the treetops. Once it was in position, a hatch opened in the bottom of the cabin and a rope ladder lowered.

The airship itself was a lot larger and a lot quieter than Bucky had expected. It hung nearly silently in the air above them, drifting slowly in the light crosswinds.

"Come on, lads," Monty prompted them. "You're not afraid of heights, are you?"

Bucky shuddered and swallowed. Steve nudged him. "You survived the Cyclone," was all he said.

Taking a deep steadying breath and firming his grip on their rescue, he nodded and replied, "You guys go first. I'll follow with Stark. Don't want him accidentally knocking anyone off the ropes with those wings of his."

Dumdum shrugged and shoved his hat more firmly onto his head. "Whatever, let's go. Time's wastin'."

One by one, the team grabbed hold of the ladder and began climbing, all of them careful not to make any sudden moves and jolt the others. Steve waited with him until everyone else was away. In the moment of relative privacy, he caught Bucky's eyes and said mildly, "We have a few things to discuss, don't we?"

And then he was making his way up after the team.

Biting back a sigh, Bucky grabbed for the lowest rung and heaved Stark up with him. "You're a lot heavier than you look," he grumbled at the limp weight, knowing Stark wouldn't hear him. "Tell them to haul up the ladder," he yelled to Steve. "I won't make it all the way up like this."

He got a salute with a closed fist in reply, an acknowledgment, and he watched the rest of the team vanish into the airship.

Stark twitched in his hold and mumbled something incoherent, and Bucky yelped as the abrupt change in the location of their center of mass sent them swinging. "Damn it, Stark, don't move!"

They only barely missed smashing helplessly into a tree trunk -- one with a series of wicked-looking broken off branch stumps decorating its side that Bucky was damned sure would probably have ended up puncturing a lung, had they met their mark -- before they were hauled up past the treetops. 

Then, finally, the airship began drifting higher, climbing until they dangled far above the treetops and their dangers. It left them exposed to whatever enemy fire could reach them, but Bucky was betting that the ladder would start retracting now, too.

Sure enough, as they swung gently in the winds, the belly of the airship began gradually looming larger and larger until Bucky realised with a jolt that he could almost reach out and touch it. His team was reaching out for them and before he knew it they'd hauled him and Stark both into the belly of the ship.

The hatch they'd come through closed smoothly, and settled into place with a click as a redhead stormed over to them. "Oh my _God_! Mr. Stark?" she exclaimed, shock coloring her voice.

Stark mumbled something else against Bucky's skin, and he had to force back the shiver that the sensation sent up his spine. "He needs to be checked over," Bucky repeated the news he was sure she had already heard. "We don't know what happened to him, but he said Zemo and Strucker did this to him... whatever it is."

The redhead hissed, coloring in anger, and Bucky only then noticed that her back and shoulders had been bandaged up. A tall broad man with skin as dark as Gabe's stood looming behind her, near the door of the small room. He looked angry, and armed.

"Alright, follow me," she demanded. "We have an infirmary nearby."

The rest of the team made to follow, and she spun, glaring them down one by one. "I don't think so. You lot stay here."

Steve looked like he wanted to protest.

Bucky cut him off. "I can take care of myself, Cap," he put in, "and these seem to be friends. Of Stark's anyway, even if they're not friends of ours."

The redhead huffed at him. "That remains to be determined. We have no proof that you are who you claim to be."

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. "You really think someone would dare impersonate me? This team?"

"We can worry about that later, Cap," Bucky put his foot down, itching to get moving now that he knew Stark could be cared for.

The redhead gave him a long look, the nodded. "This way."

"We don't hear from you in an hour, Sarge," Dumdum put in, obliquely warning both him and the redhead, whose name he still didn't know, "we're coming after you, and it might get ugly."

"Roger that," Bucky called over his shoulder, as he hitched Stark up a little and followed the redhead out of the room.

He counted steps and doorways in silence for a while, taking note of landmarks, on the off chance that he'd need to get back without his somewhat reluctant guide. Eventually she broke the silence. "Sergeant, is it? That would make you Barnes."

"You have me at a disadvantage," Bucky replied, not directly confirming or denying. "Miss?"

She caught his eye and gave him a look that said she saw right through the tactic. "Virginia Potts."

"Mmmmm Pep?" Stark managed to mumble, and tried to turn his head blinking blearily up at her. "That you?"

As Stark regained consciousness, for all that coherence was still a ways off, Bucky felt a sting of pain shoot down his back on either side of his spine. It took a lot of effort to bite back the pained hiss of sound the sensation threatened to pull free of his throat. But if he hadn't told Steve what had passed between him and Stark yet, he sure wasn't about to reveal it to Miss Potts. If that was even her name.

"Oh good, he's talking." Miss Potts sighed as she slowed her pace and pushed open a door on the left side of the corridor. They'd gone about twenty meters. "At least that way we might be able to get the story out of him." She paused long enough to step over to a speaker unit mounted on the wall, pressed a button, then called, "Jarvis! It's really him! Set the autopilot for a moment and get down here. I'll take the helm while you look him over."

"Be right there," answered the gruff voice Bucky'd so briefly heard over the radio while Stark had been strong enough to call his friends. "Don't leave him alone."

As if Bucky was a risk to him. He choked down the urge to growl at her, and maneuvered Stark over to the padded table in the middle of the room, setting him down carefully and not letting go until he was comfortably settled.

Taking his hands off Stark was an act of supreme self control. Bucky wasn't sure how he managed it. He could feel his fingers twitching with the need to touch, to reassure himself that Stark was alive, was breathing. That--

"I won't," Miss Potts said behind him, and then let go of the button she'd been holding while she spoke. She turned to Bucky and raised an eyebrow at him when he gave her his attention. "I'd ask what happened to his shirt," she quipped, "but I suppose I should be glad he's fit even for halfway decent company."

Bucky met her eyes calmly. "I got no clue what happened to his shirt. We found him like this. My money's on Strucker or Zemo as the cause. Or whatever they did that left him with wings."

"Pretty sure those are one and the same," she pointed out. "Just how _did_ they give him wings?"

Bucky shrugged, and let his frustration show a little, his accent shifting back to Brooklyn rather than the slightly more polished English his superiors expected him to use. "I ain't got a clue 'bout that, either. He already had 'em when we found 'im. S'why we didn't recognise him at first."

As he finished the sentence, the door opened again, and a grizzled veteran stepped through. He glared at Bucky. "And who are you, then?"

Miss Potts answered him when Bucky stayed silent. "He was savvy enough not to confirm or deny, but my guess is Sergeant James Barnes, second in command to Captain America. Assuming the story they fed us was true."

Jarvis -- Bucky still had no idea whether that was his given name or his family name -- looked at him with a bit more interest and less hostility, at that. "Is that so," he asked, stepping closer to the table and Stark.

And Bucky -- who, for all that Stark had called this man for help, couldn't stop himself from straightening up to his full height and putting himself between Jarvis and the table. "And if it is," he asked quietly, knowing that his voice had taken on a dangerous edge, "does that change anything?"

Jarvis raised an eyebrow at him. "No more than if it isn't," he said calmly. "Stand aside."

Miss Potts, he realised belatedly, had disappeared from the room, apparently confident that Jarvis could handle him if needed. Bucky took a breath and forced himself to step aside, to take the risk that this Jarvis was on the up-and-up. He probably ought to have gone back to the hold to check on Steve and the others, but even going this far from Stark was making him mighty edgy.

He took the few steps over to lean against the wall and keep watch.

Jarvis' eyes followed him for a few seconds, and then he bent over Stark. Bucky's fists clenched without his conscious decision. He warily kept his silence, watching closely as Jarvis checked Stark over, clucking over the bruises he found and eyeing the plate in Stark's chest as though it was a week old fish. He checked for internal injuries, too, before he relaxed slightly.

"When did he find time to charge this?" Jarvis demanded with a resigned air and gestured to the glass plate.

What that implied... Bucky frowned. "Not while he was with us. He had that thing before Strucker and Zemo nabbed him?"

Jarvis tugged at his sideburns, then shrugged. "He did. Damned fool always ignores the low power warnings. Did this time, as well."

Jesus, but Bucky knew how to pick 'em. As if Steve wasn't bad enough. He bit back a groan, but he knew Jarvis could see the emotion on his face. Shoving a hand through his hair, Bucky replied, "If it's got enough of a charge, you'd better have a look at his back. He was actin' like it hurt, earlier."

The comment got a snort. "Well, if those wings are actually usable and not just glued onto his shoulders somehow," Jarvis shot back, "of course they damned well hurt."

Oh. Bucky hadn't even considered that aspect of it. "Huh."

"Well, get over here and help me roll him over," Jarvis demanded. "I can't do that and keep those wings from flopping all over the place."

Those wings wound up flopping all over the place despite Bucky's best efforts. They reacted like they were spring-loaded. He'd expected them to follow the laws of gravity, and stay put for a moment until he could get his hands in position, but no. Instead he got a wing to the face that was probably going to leave him with a black eye to show for it, and made Jarvis laugh at him. Scowling and swearing, Bucky gathered up that wing and pinned it back down, holding it against Stark's back.

It happened again with the other wing, for all that he tried to hold it down before Stark's weight came off it. The sleek feathers were a lot slipperier than he'd remembered, and it slid right out of his grip to whack him in the shins. At least that time, Jarvis laughed at him a bit less obviously, and took his time checking over Stark's back.

Bucky could only watch enviously as Jarvis' hands slid over the muscles along Stark's spine, wishing it were him touching that skin and in a very different context.

Once he was satisfied that there were no injuries there, Jarvis had him let go of one wing then reached for it himself and repeated the checks with the new limb and the muscles that had been hidden underneath. The process gave Bucky a much closer look at the feathers than he'd had before, and he reached out to brush his fingers over them. The soft, smooth shafts running down the center of each one and the light but incredibly strong vanes that gave them their shape were amazing. [1] And then there were the subtle dappled patterns. The whole wing looked a lot like those of the hawks he'd occasionally seen drifting through the air above the treetops as they marched, just... redder. [2]

"Well," Jarvis muttered to himself, "I suppose I'll have to dig up a book or five on birds, if I want to know how to diagnose anything to do with this."

Bucky huffed at him, feeling an amused smirk tug at his lips. "What, you mean you're not also a veterinarian?"

Jarvis gave him a slightly put out look. "While being in Mr. Stark's employ does lead a man to gain all manner of obscure knowledge," he replied, "that is not a topic that has come up until today. At least he doesn't appear to have done more than strain the muscles of his back. That tail of his will probably need some attention, with the way he's kept it stuffed down his pants, but he doesn't seem to have injured it."

Bucky looked more closely and stared. How had he missed that? "Ah. Good."

Stark stirred again, groaning quietly, and his hand unerringly went to Bucky's waistband. He latched onto it, his grip stronger than Bucky would have expected, and pulled.

Yanked off balance, Bucky made a startled sound and stumbled over his own feet. "Whoa, there!"

He caught himself on the padded table and managed not to fall on Stark, but it was something of a close call and required him to let Stark's wings go again.

Apparently content now that his knuckles were brushing against the skin of Bucky's belly, Stark relaxed. Jarvis raised an eyebrow at Bucky. "So it's like that, is it?"

"Like what?" Bucky tried to deflect. He doubted he'd be able to bullshit Jarvis, but he had to try.

Picking up on the emotions behind the thoughts, if not the reason for them, Stark's fingers flexed. "Shush," he mumbled, "c'mere."

"Like that," Jarvis told him with a roll of his eyes. "You're mated to him, aren't you."

It wasn't, strictly, a question. And yet Bucky knew beyond a doubt that if he didn't answer honestly he'd be mired in shit up to his neck. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Pretty sure I am, yeah."

Stark pulled at his waistband again with a plaintive sound, and Bucky's eyes were suddenly glued to Stark again. He couldn't seem to look away from the pained and longing expression he could only see in profile. It tugged at the features he knew he'd recognise anywhere, now: slight crow's feet at the corners of Stark's eyes, and the dark bruises under them, the dark shadow of facial hair blurring the lines of Stark's moustache. The pair of tiny scars high on his right cheekbone and near the point of his chin.

"That explains a lot." Jarvis gave him another measuring look. "Well, you'd better get used to doing what he wants and what he needs. Starting with taking him to his bed and putting your skin on his. We'll worry about the consequences once he's properly awake."

Bucky tried to protest. "I've gotta get back to my team and--"

"We'll deal with that. You deal with Mr. Stark," Jarvis told him firmly. "His cabin is at the very end of the corridor to the right."

"But--" Bucky tried again.

Jarvis cut him off with a glare even better than his old drill sergeant had had. "Go."

\------

[1] For whose who, like me, aren't bird experts, here is a link that explains a bit more about how bird wings work: [image link](https://www.birdsoutsidemywindow.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/07/feather_parts_rsz_wiki.jpg). Click here to return to text.  
[2] The bird Tony resembles is a honey buzzard, and they're quite pretty: [image link](https://pbs.twimg.com/media/DRFwRJVV4AAmP-9.jpg). Click here to return to text.


	4. [Tony POV]

He was warm and comfortable, there was bare skin against his, and he could hear the low buzz of the airship's engines. That had been a hell of a dream. He'd just about convinced himself that he'd gotten himself caught and experimented on in his attempt to get the orichalcum spearhead away from Strucker and Zemo, then been hauled bodily to safety by Captain America and the Howling Commandos, finding his mated in the person who'd held him up while he radioed Jarvis.

There was no way that could possibly be right, though.

He shifted, stretching, and the feeling of bare skin pressed against his chest distracted him a bit more effectively than it had the first time. Just who was in his bed? And what was tickling his back?

"You awake?" A slightly rough baritone voice asked him.

Tony startled and peeled his eyes open properly. His first impressions were of bright stormcloud grey eyes and generous pouty lips.

"More or less?" He replied, making to sit up, and giving that up with a pained hiss when his upper and lower back protested sharply. A glance at his side made him swear. "It wasn't a dream, then."

"No," the guy replied. "And if you hadn't been so flattened by it at the time, I might be offended that you forgot me so quickly."

"Who are you, then?" Tony asked, letting himself sprawl all over the guy. No reason not to, after all, and the calm mix of fond amusement and relief coming from him was kind of soothing. Besides, this guy was a dead ringer for most of Tony's preferences. If he was going to willingly let Tony touch, Tony sure wasn't going to turn down the opportunity. "What I can remember suggests you're part of the Howling Commandos, but I never got a name. And, frankly, it's statistically more likely that I dreamt it all up than that the Howling Commandos raided a HYDRA stronghold just to get me out."

"Well, we did, and I'm James Barnes, Sergeant. But you can call me Bucky."

Tony quirked an eyebrow at him, not quite sure what to think of that nickname, but said nothing about it. "Alright, Bucky," he replied. After a pause he added, "Does that mean I also didn't dream up that we were mated?"

Bucky cleared his throat and pinked a little. "Pretty sure you didn't. If you did, I'd have had to dream the same."

Tony stared at him, not quite sure whether to believe it. But in Bucky's favor was the way his fingers trailed over Tony's shoulders unconsciously, somehow easing the soreness and lingering muscle cramps as they gently traced over his own bare skin. Touch had no effect unless it happened to be your mated under your fingers. Or tongue. Or whatever. But when it was... it was better than any painkiller. Probably better than any drug. Most people never found their mates, but enough did to keep people believing that it was possible. And anyone who did almost became a celebrity overnight. Not to mention the subject of a thousand scientific tests. Tony forced that train of thought aside. He could worry about that later. Given that he'd come away from this adventure half bird, the details were likely to stay highly classified for a while, anyway, assuming that Fury didn't decide to hang him out to dry. As distinctive as his appearance was now, he was useless for any kind of undercover work. "And where's the rest of your team?"

"Probably hanging around the galley and playing poker." Bucky's voice was dry and knowing.

Tony pinched at the bridge of his nose and took a breath. He let the air back out after a few seconds, forcing a bit of the tension in his muscles to go with it. "Alright. So what now?"

"Well, we gotta report back to our superiors in London, and you need to get checked over properly," Bucky pointed out, sounding deadly serious now. "Whatever they did to you in there... you're not recovered from it, Stark."

"First of all, it's Tony. None of that 'Mr. Stark' nonsense," he retorted. "And secondly, that shouldn't be a big surprise. It felt like they were flaying me open and tearing me apart."

The hands on him tightened protectively, and Tony swore he heard Barnes growl, low and dangerous. "I know. I felt the aftermath of it when Monty shoved you into my arms."

Gingerly, Tony tried to arrange his new wings more comfortably. It left the muscles in his back burning with the unaccustomed movements and made him grit his teeth, but the strain gravity was putting on them lessened. Net gain. Bucky's hands moved to his wings, taking their weight and leaving Tony all but gasping in relief. "Oh, wow, that's a lot better."

"Maybe we should look into getting you a sling of some kind until you can train up those new muscles of yours," Bucky suggested, and Tony felt a shiver of worry go through him.

"Maybe. If we have time and access to a doctor with the relevant clearances, and the relevant know-how. This goes a little beyond normal human medicine," Tony pointed out.

Bucky's mouth flattened into a stubborn line. "If there ain't one, you better _find_ one. Or I'll bet Jarvis will."

A short silence fell between them as Tony tried to stare down Bucky. Operative word, tried. Unsurprisingly, his new mated was strong-willed. "Ugh. Fine."

"And," Bucky hesitated. "There's somethin' else you gotta know, Tony."

Oh boy. That had the sound of something big. "Yeah? What's that?"

"I'm mated with Steve, too." Bucky swallowed, nervous as hell, while Tony stared at him, floored. Visibly forcing the words out, Bucky went on, licking at his lip. "Have been for years, but we never breathed a word about it to anyone. And if anyone else finds out, I'll know who told 'em, but, Tony, we kept it quiet for a reason."

"What's that?" Tony carefully threaded his hand into Bucky's hair and watched the tension drain slowly back out of him at the touch.

"Well, okay, more than one reason," Bucky amended the statement. "But the most important one is the Commandos. You know the Army doesn't allow mated pairs to serve in the same unit."

Tony had no idea what to say to that, really, so he kept quiet and ran his fingers through Bucky's hair in silence, gentling and calming him.

"I don't know what to do, Tony," Bucky admitted after spending a few minutes simply letting Tony pet him. "I've got two mates now, but I can't say a word about either of them, and I'm on a team that means I'll be away from one of them at least nine months of the year."

"Luckily," Tony replied, keeping his tone light, "I have some leverage. Fury was sniffing around not that long ago, hinting he wanted me and my team to help him out with something."

He'd been fully aware around this guy, his new mated, for less than an hour, but offering to blackmail Fury into letting him work with the Commandos felt right. Everything in him was telling him he could trust Bucky, and the mix of protectiveness and want he could feel was only reinforcing that decision.

"Fury ain't easy to manipulate," Bucky warned him. "His schemes always have layers."

Tony couldn't help the smirk that tugged at his lips. "That's as may be, but I don't give up easily."

"Think you can handle a shirt?" Bucky eyed him, evaluating. "We need to talk this through with the others."

He had a point. Tony grumbled a few curses under his breath. "If you tear up the backs so that they go over these damned wings, probably. But I'd rather stay here."

"Can't say as I blame ya." Bucky regretfully let go of him and slid out of the bed.

Tony watched him quickly ransack the room for a shirt and a knife, caught between feeling bereft now that they weren't touching anymore and admiration of the smooth way Bucky moved. He was efficient and elegant, and way too attractive for his own good. It was kind of impressive that he'd managed to get this far in life without having several women hanging off his arms.

Or maybe he hadn't, Tony realised, trying not to let his expression go mulish. He had no idea what Bucky's personal life was like. It was pretty clear that Bucky and his other mated -- the Captain, Tony suspected; he'd heard a lot of other names flung about yesterday, through the haze of pain, but not that one -- weren't falling into bed together at the end of the day. That would have made it pretty damned obvious to the world just what the situation was, and there was more than just Army policy to worry about, really. For all that the world knew soulmates were a confirmed phenomenon, there were still plenty of people who thought that two men didn't belong in a relationship. And that was leaving aside the numerous rumours that there was some romance brewing between the Captain and Agent Carter.

He was going to have to have a long talk with Bucky about this whole thing. And possibly the Captain, too.

"Here." Bucky broke him out of his thoughts holding a shirt in front of his face, its back panels cut so that they fluttered loose in the air briefly. "Can you sit up?"

Tony considered the request, distracted just enough from his musings about whether Bucky had a sex life. "I can try?"

Bucky wound up helping him to his feet instead. That turned out to be easier than sitting, with the way trying to sit on the bed left his wings -- which extended down to his knees even when folded up against his back -- either getting half crushed beneath him or awkwardly splayed out at an angle.

To Tony's relief the shirt went on easily after that, and Bucky improvised a half decent sling for the wings out of a pair of Tony's belts. He buckled them as loose as they'd go, one around Tony's chest and one around his belly, holding the wings in place.

It meant Tony still had to relearn how to balance, now that his center of gravity was suddenly several inches farther back, but he didn't have to worry about keeping them in place under his own power and the pain of his overworked back muscles was reduced to manageable levels.

Trying to take a step toward the bathroom left him clenching his teeth against the bizarre feeling of his pants rubbing against more feathers. He hadn't truly realised it yesterday -- his memories of the Howlies' rescue were a mishmash of his own faltering footsteps and explosions -- or while he'd been more or less still on the bed, but now...

He didn't just have wings. He had a tail to match. Jesus.

Bucky was watching him oddly. "Tony?"

"Just... We might have to cut up these pants, too." He managed.

Bucky had the balls to laugh at him. "Gonna take 'em off or should I try to take 'em apart for you like this?"

Not sure whether to take the offer seriously, Tony raised an eyebrow at him. After a beat, he shrugged. "Nothing you haven't seen before," he quipped, and undid the button and fly on his stained khakis. They'd gotten muddy and torn and, he winced, a bit bloody. "And I intend to burn these the moment I can get my hands on a fresh pair. Go ahead and take them apart."

Bucky gave him an appreciative once over when he was down to his boxers, and Tony smirked at him. "Like what you see?"

"Maybe I do." Bucky took the pants but didn't look away from Tony. "That a problem?"

It wasn't. Far from it. "Thought you wanted to talk to your team," he asked Bucky instead, sidestepping the question. If he acknowledged his own attraction they'd be here all day, and wind up staying in bed to boot.

"That sounds like a 'no'," Bucky teased him, but he didn't pursue the point. Instead, he took the knife he still held, deftly flipped it through the air, caught it again, and sliced through the ass of the khakis along the seam. Tony told himself he wasn't going to be won over by a simple knife trick.

He wasn't.

Bucky offered him the pants then eyed him. "You might have to do the same with those boxers of yours."

The thought made Tony sigh as he accepted the 'altered' garment. He'd need a whole new wardrobe if they couldn't reverse this somehow. "For now I'll just leave them off, I guess. I'd rather not ruin all the clothes I brought with me in one fell swoop."

Bucky leered at him. "Now there's a thought. You gonna strip for me, sugar?"

Tony could tell it had been a joke, but he couldn't resist the need to call the man's bluff. He caught and held Bucky's eyes, dropping his hands to the waistband of his shorts and sliding one side down over his hip. "And if I do? What then?"

Bucky's expression went predatory but he kept quiet, watching as though he wanted to memorise the sight. As though he might not see it again for a long time.

That decided Tony. He dropped his pants on the bed and slid the underwear lower until it fell to the floor and stepped out of it. He considered picking it up and offering it to Bucky as a souvenir, but he just knew he'd overbalance. Shoving the thought aside, he closed the distance between them. Tony knew he looked ridiculous, wearing nothing but a shredded button up shirt with a pair of belts for decoration, but despite that Bucky looked like he wanted to tumble him to the bed and kiss him senseless. "Will that do?"

Bucky cleared his throat. "For now. I expect you to take that shirt off for me later."

Tony grinned, pleased by Bucky's reaction to seeing his bare skin. "You going to give me a hand?"

"I'll give you a damn sight more than that, if you'll let me," his mated growled at him, sending a shiver down Tony's spine.

"Good." Tony leaned in for a kiss and got a chaste peck. The tightly-leashed want and anticipation that flashed through him made Tony squirm. Bucky had a lot more self-control than he did where sex was concerned, but now Tony knew exactly what it was costing him. "Now come on and help me with this. I need another belt. The sooner we get this talk over with, the sooner we can get to the fun parts of this day."

For his part, Tony wasn't sure he'd have been able to keep his hands to himself had he been in Bucky's position. But they both came away from the task with a minimum of teasing. Well, until Bucky took a look at the way being stuffed down his pants had left his tail feathers looking ragged.

In what Tony was almost sure was a measure of revenge, Bucky turned him toward the bed. "On your stomach. We need to fix you up a bit."

Biting at his lip as the strange sensation of an itch that wasn't on his skin made him want to squirm and _make the feathers lie straight and smooth again_ , Tony took a breath and held it for a beat. "Okay. I can't reach anyway, and it feels like my hair's combed to the wrong side."

Bucky chuckled at him. "Go on. I promise I won't take no liberties."

"Wouldn't mind if you did," Tony muttered back, but did as Bucky asked.

This was going to test his resolve.


	5. [Steve POV]

Seeing Bucky saunter into the galley looking like he was a new man was enough to make Steve stop in his tracks for a moment. The hesitation got everyone else's attention, though. Seeing Mr. Stark follow him through the doorway, looking just as much improved despite the state of his clothing, was even better.

The clearly improvised adjustments to what he was wearing got Steve thinking. Bucky had to have helped him with the modifications, and they both looked like they had something on their minds. If Steve's guess was on the mark, he rather suspected they wanted to go back to Stark's room and make use of the bed.

"Sarge!" Gabe acknowledge him with a grin. "Mr. Stark! 'Bout time you two joined us."

Mr. Stark looked amused. "You have me at a disadvantage. After yesterday I remember a lot of names but not the faces they go with."

Steve stifled a laugh as the entire team save Monty started talking over each other.

Bucky allowed it for a moment, then whistled shrilly. "Ain't you idiots got enough sense in your heads to know how introductions work? Tony, these are Gabe, Monty, Jacques, Jim, and Dumdum. The blond guy is our Captain. He's technically classified."

Mr. Stark gave them all a civil enough nod, apparently preferring that to offering all of them his hand to shake. "Pleasure. And thanks for the rescue."

Steve nodded back. "I'm just glad we got there in time."

"As am I," Mr. Stark agreed. "But we have a different topic to address."

"What's that?" Monty inquired, eyeing Mr. Stark up and down.

"We need to decide what's next. There've been some developments, and we need to plan. Together." Mr. Stark stepped over to the speaker mounted to the wall. "Pepper? Rhodey? Jarvis? Come by the galley if you're free."

Bucky waited for the trio to walk in, then picked up the thread, clearing his throat and squaring his shoulders. Steve couldn't help but notice that he also stepped closer to Mr. Stark. "Turns out that we're mated," Bucky announced, bluntly laying the information in front of them all. "And that could cause some trouble with Director Fury and Colonel Phillips. Among others."

"But not with Agent Carter, I'd wager," Dumdum pointed out. "The other two usually listen to her, when she's got something to say."

"True," Steve agreed, still processing Bucky's statement; he wasn't sure what to feel at the moment. On the one hand, he'd been right, and therefore not blindsided, but on the other he really had no idea how he'd react to having to share Bucky. Especially since the team had no idea the two of them had been mated before this little debacle. Well. More accurately, they hadn't known about him and Bucky, and if he didn't say anything now it would have to stay that way for good. "We need to get back to London to debrief," he said, settling on something neutral.

Jarvis eyed him. "Lucky for you, we have enough fuel for that."

Mr. Stark made an amused sound. "We were planning on heading there to refuel anyway," he reminded Jarvis, then turned to Bucky and added, "Even if it does get out, at least I'm already famous, so the attention that goes with being mated won't be too big of a hurdle. And if anyone makes too much of a fuss I have plenty of weight to throw around."

"Blows Sarge's cover to hell and back, though," Steve pointed out, still adjusting to the idea that he’d guessed correctly. "It'd be best if we could keep the whole thing under wraps entirely."

Jim nodded. "That might not be possible, but if we can..."

Mr. Stark jumped back in. "That's the other part of this we need to discuss. If everyone's willing to take up the cause, the Sarge and I were considering merging our two teams."

That... Steve considered the idea. It had some merit. If nothing else, it would make keeping Bucky and his new mate out of the newspapers possible.

"To what end?" Pepper wanted to know. "And how do you intend to force the Army brass to accept that? You're a civilian, no matter your clearances."

"Do you fancy trying to keep this quiet, Pepper?" Mr. Stark asked her, his voice quiet as he made a sweeping gesture at himself. "The instant I openly leave the airship, I'll be making headlines. Probably even if it's at SSR headquarters. And you can bet that if my appearance gets around, the papers will do their best to find more dirt to smear all over the front pages. Barnes goes to his debrief and so much as being mated to me, and that juicy bit of news’ll be all over the country before you can say 'newsflash'."

"So give the papers what they want," Monty suggested. "Tell them all about your new look and who gave it to you. Tell them all about how painful it is and how you intend to drag HYDRA back down into the mud they sprang from."

Mr. Stark considered that. "That'll draw all kinds of attention. Including Strucker's and Zemo's. It'll be an engraved invitation and a red flag all in one."

"You think they'd dare attack you in London?" Gabe sounded skeptical.

"I know they would." Mr. Stark shrugged. "They have before."

"Bon," Dernier decided. "Barnes ira avec toi."

Bucky gave Jacques a sour look. "And you think I'm enough to stop whatever HYDRA sends? On my own? No, we'd do better to stick together, whatever we decide to do about the press."

"Isn't all this a bit premature?" Rhodes asked, breaking his silence. "You still need to find out what your superiors have to say about all this."

"Maybe so, but what they say," Steve replied with a half-smile, "will depend on what we tell them."

Everyone exchanged glances. Jim broke the silence. "You know, all of you are forgetting something," he pointed out.

"Yeah? What's that?" Bucky obligingly took the bait.

"We could show off Mr. Stark's new look and then lay a trap." Morita looked like he was biting back a smirk.

Steve considered the suggestion. "That might even work. Let's see what Colonel Phillips has to say, but I'm not opposed."

Pepper had a viciously bloodthirsty look on her face. "I'm not opposed. They deserve every bit of hurt we can lay on them after what they've done."

Jarvis' expression heavily implied that he agreed, but he didn't say a word.

"Alright," Rhodes nodded. "We'll hash out the details once we're moored in London. For now, Boss, you look like you should get some more rest."

The Howlies exchanged a look and grinned. Dumdum was the one to voice what they were all thinking. "Oh, we are going to enjoy this."

The moment Bucky had announced that Mr. Stark was his mated, the man had become one of Theirs. Steve could see it. Stark was no longer the media darling, or the adventurer, or the spinner of tales. He was Bucky's other half. And damned if Steve didn't want that for himself, too. He shook off the thoughts as best he could and addressed the room. "If no one has any other concerns to raise, I'm declaring this meeting adjourned."

No one spoke up, so Steve stepped over to Bucky and put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Now that you're mated," he told Bucky, letting the rest of the room hear his words and knowing Bucky would hear the unspoken 'again', "we need to talk out a few tactical details for any future missions. Bring Mr. Stark, if you want."

"Let's do this where he can lie down, Cap," Bucky suggested, and caught Stark's eyes. "Come on, you can talk even if you're on your bed as you do it," he prodded the man into motion.

Unable to help himself, Steve wondered what the two of them had looked like tangled together under the sheets and was tempted to sketch it. Thankfully, no one but Bucky noticed his momentary preoccupation.

Stark grumbled something uncomplimentary under his breath. "You'd best not start trying to wrap me in cotton wool. I won't stand for it," he warned them both as he led the way out of the galley and back down the corridors toward the nose of the airship. "I'm no wilting flower for you to throw in a gilded tower and protect."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Bucky replied, one of his hands subtly going to the small of Stark's back, between the folded wings.

Steve was sure beyond a doubt that Bucky's fingers were teasing skin, somehow, even if he couldn't see it happen, and damned if that didn't send his thoughts off on another spiraling set of speculations on what the two of them were like. He wanted to know if those feathers really were as soft and strong as they looked. If touching them would make Stark shiver and moan. If seeing him touching them would make _Bucky_ shiver and moan.

And, wow, Mother and Country, he needed to stop that train of thought before he embarrassed himself.

Mr. Stark paused in front of a door, and shoved it open, oblivious to the turn Steve's thoughts had taken, waving them in.

As the door shut behind them, Steve took in the space. It was small, as was any cabin aboard ship, but managed to be light and airy and very well appointed despite that. It had a correspondingly small adjoining bath and a large window opposite the door that allowed sunlight to stream in and light up the space. It resembled nothing more nor less than a study with a comfortable king sized bed placed in it. There were shelves and shelves of books and journals. A writing desk stood along one wall, dripping with sketches, maps, and other odds and ends. The dark wine-red curtains perfectly matched the slightly rumpled bedsheets. It was visibly a haven. A place Stark could go to escape the world and concentrate on his work, whatever that happened to be at the time, without having to leave for such petty worldly concerns as sleep.

Bucky caught his attention, then, having settled Stark on the bed while Steve looked around. "So what did you _actually_ want the privacy for, Steve?"

He... Steve shrugged. He hadn't let himself think about it, but... He squared his shoulders. "Well, what now? You're mated to two people. What are we going to do about it?"

Mr. Stark made an amused sound. "Are you jealous, Captain?"

The shot struck truer than either of them had expected. Steve felt himself flush red, and Stark stared at him.

"Wow, you are," Stark muttered. "I hadn't anticipated that."

Bucky sighed. "Damn it, Steve. Really?" With a shake of his head he stepped over to Steve and wrapped a warm hand around the nape of Steve's neck, tilting Steve's head until their foreheads were touching.

Steve would never admit it, but the mix of amusement and fondness he felt was reassuring. "Well I've had all of a few hours to get used to the idea," he grumbled. "And it's not an easy change to just roll with. I've had to keep you a secret for the last ten years, and now you're going to wind up openly mated to someone else."

Mr. Stark sniffed at him. "Is he always that dramatic, Bucky?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Bucky replied, ignoring the way Steve glared at him. "He'll calm down, Tony, don't you worry."

"Well, I'd rather it happened sooner than later," Mr. Stark shot back. "Come here, Captain," he demanded.

Steve slowly pulled away from Bucky's grounding touch and took the two steps over to the side of the bed.

"Good, now sit down," came the next command.

Not entirely sure why he was obeying, Steve did. "And now?"

"Now," Mr. Stark told him, "we are going to make our agreement. I'll do what I can to keep things low profile, and so will you. I don't care if you want to take Bucky aside and make some time, every now and then. All I want is your word that you won't try to break anything up."

"I wouldn't!" Steve protested, stung by the implied criticism.

Stark offered him a calloused hand to shake. "Then we won't have any problems."

Doing his best not to roll his eyes and knowing he probably failed, Steve took it. And promptly dropped it like it burned him when a flash of emotion shot through him. "Stark... what?"

Mr. Stark was staring at his own hand, a bit dumbfounded.

Bucky glanced back and forth between them. "Now this is rich."

"We'll never hear the end of it," Stark agreed. "From the moment someone gets wind of the fact that apparently triadic bonds are possible, we'll never get any peace. And Captain? Call me Tony."

"Long as no one else is around, you can call me Steve." He buried his face in his hands with a muffled groan. Jesus. This was going to be a _mess_. Two soulmates. He had _two_ soulmates.

 _He_ had two soulmates.

And one of them was Tony Stark.

He jumped when a hand landed high on his thigh, and had to stifle a half-hysterical giggle. Looked like he might find out what Tony and Bucky looked like in bed together, after all.

"You okay, Steve?" Tony had hooked a hand into the waistband of Steve's pants, fingers brushing against skin, much like Bucky had earlier, and he sounded concerned. Steve could feel the bemusement, curiosity and sheer wonder buoying Tony, and it contrasted weirdly with the worry. It was all a bit distant, though. As though it was happening to someone else.

Thankfully, Bucky interceded. "We just pulled the rug from under his feet and turned his world upside down to boot. Give him a minute, Tony."

Steve could feel that Tony didn't entirely believe Bucky, but no one said anything to the contrary.

It took him a few minutes and some careful breathing, but he clawed his way back to equilibrium. More or less.

"So now what?" He asked after he couldn't take the silence anymore, somewhat surprised that Bucky and Tony could.

"Now," Tony told him firmly, "you take your shirt off and lie down on the bed with me for a while. Bucky, you too. We can worry about the next steps and logistics in fifteen minutes, or twenty."

Steve hesitated.

Bucky didn't. He unbuttoned his shirt and slid it off without a second thought, then reached for Steve's when he didn't move fast enough for Bucky's taste. Once he was done with that, he reached for the belts holding Tony's wings against his back. "Steve, give me a hand here, or we'll get knocked off the bed."

He blinked at Bucky stupidly for a moment and got an expressively unimpressed look in return. "If you don't hold them where they are," he clarified, "they'll just open right up under their own power. Tony hasn't got the strength to hold 'em in place yet."

"Oh." Steve cautiously reached for Tony's wings, setting his hands halfway between the pair of belts holding them down. "Alright."

Bucky's request left him leaning over Tony while Bucky's hands deftly slid between their bellies and undid the belts. As Bucky had warned him, the moment the belts were loose, Tony's wings tried to open, and the force behind it caught Steve off guard. They were a lot stronger than he'd expected. It wasn't nearly enough force to dislodge him, but it left him with a strong hunch that he knew how Bucky had figured out that Tony might throw them off the bed unintentionally.

"Good," Bucky told him. "Now hold that until we can get him out of his shirt."

Tony helped with that, and then wrapped his arms around Steve's neck and hauled him down into the bed.

If he'd wanted to Steve could have resisted.

He didn't.


	6. [Bucky POV]

It took the three of them the better part of an hour to calm down fully after the revelation that Steve's jealousy was entirely unwarranted. Steve had been jittery and awkward for the first half hour or so, for all that he'd enjoyed the cuddling and touching that Tony had instigated.

Bucky was pretty sure that was on account of the way Steve's brain ran away with him sometimes. He occasionally got so caught up in trying to predict peoples' reactions to his plans and come up with ways to deal with each one that he just got lost in it. That was the danger of letting Steve ask "what if?". He was creative enough to come up with a lot of answers.

It had taken Tony leaning over to plant a kiss on him to break Steve out of it.

Steve had shivered hard, full body, then all but fallen into the touch as though starved for it. And maybe he had been, Bucky acknowledged. He and Steve hadn't been able to find time to reconnect, as Steve put it, in several weeks. They and the Howlies had been running mission after mission with barely enough downtime in between to resupply, let alone enjoy a lazy afternoon just touching.

Bucky had to admit, seeing the pair of them kissing like it was the last thing they would ever do would stick with him for a long time. He'd had to bite his lip until it nearly bled to keep from getting hard. Much as they would all enjoy that, he knew, this was neither the time nor the place.

Just the fact that Steve was still in here with them was going to fuel gossip among the rest of their respective teams. They didn't need that, right on the heels of his announcement that he and Tony were mated.

"You're thinking hard," Tony murmured. "You alright?"

Touched by the warmth he could already feel coming from Tony, he shook his head. "Got caught up in my thoughts. We're gonna have to go join the others for dinner, soon. You hungry?"

Steve huffed. "Almost wish I wasn't."

Tony tutted at him. "I know what you mean. But you know as well as I do that your team and mine will come looking for us if we even think about skipping dinner."

"And so would your stomach," Bucky joked, poking at Steve's abs. "You and your ridiculous appetite better put your shirt back on soon."

Steve pouted at him. It wasn't so much an expression as just the look in his eyes. He knew just how to look downtrodden and pathetic. Bucky poked at him again, getting a squirm for his troubles. "Come on, Steve. Up and at 'em."

Steve grumbled a few curses under his breath, but he went. He hauled Bucky to his feet too, though, as though that counted as revenge somehow. "If I have to get dressed, you do too, Buck."

Tony was watching them, a very appreciative look in his eyes, from his position sprawled loosely over the blankets. "Yeah," he said to himself. "Definitely hit the jackpot here."

Bucky chuckled at him. "You know, I was pretty sure it was me who did."

"Pretty sure we all did," Steve put in, as he finished fastening his shirt. Without missing a beat, he started doing up Bucky's buttons next, years of habit and denied want moving his fingers.

They turned as one and held out their hands to Tony, who acquiesced to the silent demand and took them. Tony's hands went around their forearms in a strong grip, and the contact sent a complicated mix of emotions ricocheting back and forth between them that Bucky couldn't decode on the fly. It was want and frustration and heat but it transcended anything of the sort that Bucky had ever felt before. It took him a lot longer than it should have to work out that the depth and layers to the feeling were on account of the fact that they were all feeling the same just then.

And then Tony was on his feet and his wings were half-folding automatically, as though instinct was telling him how and he just couldn't quite do it yet.

Steve eyed him speculatively. "Huh. Looks like the rest helped," he commented.

Tony reached for his 'adjusted' shirt, and slid it over his shoulders. "I'm not so sure," he said on a sigh as he started doing up his buttons. "It might also be the case that whatever magic Zemo and Strucker used isn't finished running its course."

That was not a reassuring thought. "So, what? You think you might sprout more feathers?" Bucky asked.

"Well, history is more my forte than magic," Tony told him, "but it's possible. I've come across some magics before that had phases. An immediate sharp change followed by a slower more gradual one isn't out of the question, here. But given that simply standing hurts less than it did an hour ago, I'm willing to wait this out a bit longer. If my guess is right, the muscles in my back are still adjusting to the wings."

Bucky winced at the thought. Sore muscles were a special brand of painful, no matter the cause, and, after what had happened to him, Tony literally had new muscles that had never been used before. Jarvis had muttered something about developing a new exercise routine after he'd finished checking Tony over. If Tony was right, he might not even need it.

"Keep an eye on it, then," Steve demanded, "and let us know if it starts to bother you at all."

Tony gave him the stink eye. "You know, just because we're mated now doesn't mean you have to treat me like glass."

Steve bristled, and Bucky put himself between them before they could turn that into their first big argument. He could feel it building in the air like a thunderstorm. "Alright, enough. Both of you. You're being idiots. Tony, relax. He gets overprotective of the whole team. Steve, you're overdoing it."

Tony glared at him instead for a beat before he subsided. Steve did much the same. Bucky waited another second before he added, "That's better. Now kiss and make up."

"We do that, and we'll be late for dinner," Steve pointed out, not really objecting. Bucky shrugged.

Tony pouted at him. "So you don't want to?"

"Now, I never said that," Steve replied, his tone mild. "But if we're late and get caught that wouldn't be the best outcome."

"So be quick about it." Tony threw him a challenging smirk.

Bucky laughed. "Tony, sweetheart," he drawled, "it's so much better when you can take your time and feel every last inch."

That, to his surprise, got them both to blush.

"Jeeze, Buck," Steve grumbled at him, "you keep talking like that and I'll have to take a cold shower."

"So get your ass in gear, Rogers," he replied, "and after we eat, we can find a quiet place to catch some winks together."

Tony frowned. "Wait a minute. Where did Pepper and Rhodey put your team anyway? We don't have much spare bunk space aboard."

"Come on, let's go find out," Bucky tried to verbally prod them into moving again. "I didn't ask, and I'll bet Steve didn't either."

"Didn't seem important at the time," Steve defended himself lazily, but he stepped away into the adjoining bath and checked his appearance. Borrowing a comb, he straightened his hair a little, then nodded at his reflection. "Close enough. Buck, you're looking a bit mussed."

"They'll expect me to be," he pointed out. "And Tony too."

Tony handed him the pair of belts they'd used to hold his wings in place earlier. "Yeah, they will, so give me a hand with this instead."

This time it was easier to get the belts in place. Bucky wasn't sure if that was a result of the decrease in the amount of pain the wings were causing Tony or because they'd done it once and knew what to do in which order, this time. Either way, they had him strapped up far more quickly than the first time, and then Bucky stepped back to look him over from head to toe.

Tony looked attractively disheveled, and damned if the sight didn't make Bucky want to tumble him right back into bed. His hair, standing up every which way and making him look like he'd been electrocuted, was just calling out to be touched and finger combed until it submitted to gravity again. Bucky suspected the feeling might even get Tony to purr. The slightly rumpled look of his shirt, even after they'd done their best to straighten it, was making him want to try again to make the fabric lie flat, just so that he could touch Tony. And the slightly awkward way Tony's pants were distorted by the tail feathers sticking out the cut in the ass had much the same effect.

Steve cleared his throat, breaking Bucky out of his thoughts. "We need to get moving, before we wind up staying here," he said, breaking the almost reverent silence that had built between them.

Tony sighed. "You're probably right about that."

It took quite a lot of effort, but Bucky forced his feet to move. Only the fact that his two mates were going with him and felt the same as he did about matters was any consolation. Though, granted, not much. "What's for dinner, anyhow?"

"No idea," Tony replied. "Maybe spaghetti. We don't carry much in the way of perishables on missions, but there are plenty of tinned things and I know we have pasta."

Steve turned him towards the galley with a hand on his shoulder, and Bucky couldn't help but lean into the touch, hungry for whatever he could get. "Spaghetti's good."

When they walked into the galley again, everyone but Rhodes was already there and eating. It turned out to be macaroni and cheese, with a side of tinned green beans and a few strips of dried meat per person. Bucky was thankful the amount of conversation was minimal, and revolved around technicalities to do with their flight plan, and that, once Tony and Jarvis had hammered those out, Jarvis vanished to take the helm so that Rhodes could eat.

The gist of the conversation -- what Bucky could parse anyway -- was that they would be arriving in London in approximately three hours.

After everyone was finished eating, the Howlies stood and moved to clean up the area without needing to say a word about it, long used to this kind of thing after spending weeks at a time sleeping under the stars on missions. They all picked up the roles they would have had on the ground. Bucky grabbed the dishes and started washing them, handing the clean pieces to Monty to dry. Ms. Potts neatly took whatever he finished with and slotted it away in its proper place without a word.

It didn't take them long to finish the work, and Dumdum caught Bucky's eyes. "By the time we get to HQ it'll be too late in the evening for a debrief. All the officers will be in bed. You gonna spend the night with Stark?"

Bucky wanted to wince. He couldn't say no without having both their teams wanting to know why, but saying yes would make Steve smart a bit. Giving Dugan a half smirk, he replied. "Hadn't decided yet. Tony?"

"I'll be staying aboard the airship," came the reply. "Got to deal with the paperwork involved in border crossings and I haven't got a bed made up for me like you lot."

Morita huffed. "It may be a bed in a converted townhouse, but it's still a barracks. Not exactly five star accommodations, with the way these assholes snore."

No one bothered to disagree, but Bucky knew that was only because they all individually felt that way about everyone else on the team but themselves. Steve nodded. "We have to go back there for the night, though. We're already technically AWOL, even if we're getting back well within the projected timeframe for our mission."

That neatly solved his conundrum. "True," he agreed, doing his best to sound disappointed rather than relieved. "We don't need to get into more trouble than we're already in. Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips will be pretty steamed about our little side trip as it is."

Gabe made a sound that might have passed for a chuckle if he'd actually been amused. "Speaking of which. Just what are we gonna tell 'em?"

"I'd rather tell them nothing at all," Tony grumbled.

Dernier broke his silence. "Et comment expliquerez-vous soudainement être demi-oiseau?"

Tony made a face. "With the God's honest truth: I had a run in with an artifact on one of my adventures. I have a reputation for telling the most ridiculous tales, in _Marvels_. Why not take advantage of that?"

"That'll only make you sell more papers," Gabe replied. "You sure that's a good idea?"

"No, but it's better than most of the alternatives. I'd rather not get taken off guard by some photographer and be left with no control over what people hear and read." Tony responded, looking tired all of a sudden, as if just thinking about dealing with the press was tiring him out.

Bucky couldn't resist the urge to take the two steps over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He was pretty sure Steve was feeling the same, too, judging by the way his mate's fingers were subtly twitching. "Then we'll do it your way," he said decisively. "You know the press better than any of the rest of us."

Monty looked like he wanted to say something, but he kept it to himself when Steve nodded. "Alright, that's settled. We have another three hours of downtime. Unless there are any other urgent questions or points of concern, I'd say we're done here."

There was a short silence, before Morita cleared his throat. "Not 'urgent', per se," he opened, "but do you think there's any substance to the rumours around base of a possible strike against the shipyards at Emden?"

Dernier shrugged. "Si c'est vrai, il est possible que nous allons envoyés."

Bucky didn't much like that idea.

"We'll see when we get back to HQ. Until then, a rumour's just a rumour," Steve disagreed, "but I don't think the brass would tap us for an assault on a shipyard. That's more of a job for the Marines."

Hopefully Morita's words wouldn't wind up being prophetic. Bucky was hoping for a few days of leave so that he could spend them touching his mates. All three of them would benefit from that, really.


	7. [Tony POV]

In the three hours between their discussion on how to break the news about his transformation -- Tony wanted to sigh, remembering the events -- he'd had no choice but to take some time to regroup with his own team rather than spend time with Bucky, Steve, or the Howlies. The three of them, his comrades in arms and his family rolled into one, had gathered at the helm of the ship, and more or less dragged him along by his arm.

The fairly extended strategising session that had followed could be boiled down to 'play up how much it hurts when you talk to the reporters and how much you want to be back to normal' and 'don't even think about mentioning that you found your soulmate or who he is'. Both of those were fairly obvious talking points, though, and Tony had rolled his eyes at the lot of them over it. Pepper in particular had harped on the topic until he'd wanted to snap at her. Luckily Rhodey had noticed and reined her in before the situation had crossed the line between 'discussion' and 'screaming match'.

They'd wasted almost two hours on that, and then proceeded to burn the last one by grilling him about Bucky. What were Bucky's plans for the next few days and weeks? What did he want out of the relationship? What did Tony? Was Bucky going to leave his team to join theirs? What kind of skills did he have?

Having no answers to those questions, beyond 'Bucky and the Captain think our teams should work together for their next couple of missions', Tony replied to most of the queries with a shrug. He hadn't talked about that in detail with either of his soulmates, and he didn't hesitate to tell his team that, though he left out the fact that he had found out he was mated to Steve as well as Bucky.

Naturally, his lack of ready answers had provoked a number of pointed questions about just what they _had_ been doing in his rooms for so long. Tony'd ignored those wholesale, simply raising an eyebrow at his makeshift family.

Thankfully for his slightly strained patience, that had been when they'd come within radio range of London and his team had somewhat reluctantly given up their interrogation of him in favor of negotiating a berth for the airship.

"Copy that," Rhodes spoke into the radio, breaking into Tony's thoughts as he acknowledged whatever the lads in the control tower had told him. "Mooring point Bravo-niner. Coming in on approach Delta-fiver-two."

Pepper made a sound approximating a relieved sigh. "Friendly territory at last. Now you'd better stay out of sight, Mr. Stark."

"For now," Tony agreed. "But I intend to get to my apartments in town somehow."

Jarvis gave him a glare. "If you so much as think of trying to fly there on those new wings of yours, I'll make sure I shoot you down myself."

"You'd patch me back up," Tony shot back with a smirk. "But sadly, I don't think I'd have the strength for that right now. You have to admit, it'd be the quietest way to avoid the press."

Rhodey huffed at him. "It's also stupid. You'd be alone and if you were spotted you'd have no defenses," he pointed out as he turned the ship's wheel.

Tony felt the ship heel slightly to port. "Who'd ever believe the person who spotted a bird large enough to be a man? It'd be brushed off as a glider or something."

"And shot at," Pepper replied, "on the basis that an unknown glider with no lights most probably belongs to the Axis Forces."

"Who's being shot at?" Bucky asked, sauntering into the wide open room.

"No one," Jarvis growled, "unless this idiot takes it into his head to take a header off the airship without his armour."

Bucky caught his eyes. Tony shrugged. "They're exaggerating."

His irritated tone made Bucky chuckle, but his mated closed the distance between them and took his hand. Tony tried not to let his expression show how pleased he was, but he was sure Bucky felt it. He felt the answering pleased fondness. "Somehow I doubt that, Tony," he answered after a beat, "but you have to know one thing. If you take that jump, I'm jumping after you. And so would the Cap, if only because I did it and he can't let himself get shown up like that."

"Well, I guess we can't have that," Tony gave in. Not that he'd been seriously lobbying to try gliding to his London apartments in the dark without a map and with no lights to guide him, but come on. He had wings, and he wanted to know if he could actually use them, or if they were just weights on his back that would slow him down in a fight.

"Good," Bucky quipped. "I wasn't looking to go parachuting tonight."

The quiet buzz of the airship's engines changed, then, as did the subtle vibration of the floor under their feet. Tony knew that sound, Rhodey was bringing them in on the final approach. Pepper took one more long look at them, her eyes lingering pointedly on their joined hands, then left the room without a word. Tony suspected she was going to check that everything was stowed and accounted for, including the Howlies. A moment later Jarvis followed her. Tony couldn't help but watch the hatch they'd left through and wonder if they were going to go grill Steve about what had happened in his room, while they still had him aboard. They hadn't discussed what to say about the fact that they were a triad. He knew Steve would say nothing about being mated to Bucky, the good Captain had made that clear. But--

"Tony," Bucky broke into his racing thoughts. "Stop. Worrying."

"But--"

"Shh. Just put it aside for now. We'll deal with whatever it is, but you need to give yourself a break and let yourself recover properly. You're still worn down from whatever they did to you that gave you those feathers. I can feel it." Bucky's hand brushed against the slight puff of soft underfeathers that his shoulders didn't hide, at the first joint in his wing. It tickled a bit and Tony forced himself not to squirm.

Rhodey made an amused sound. "Good luck convincing him of that, Barnes. You'll need it."

Tony stuck his tongue out at Rhodey's back, and turned to face Bucky instead, pulling his mated close and tucking his fingers under Bucky's belt, at the small of his back. It got him an affectionate kiss to the point of his cheekbone, but Bucky didn't comment on the move directly. Instead he let Tony enjoy the position for a few seconds before he broke the mood. He didn't want to do it. Tony could almost taste the reluctance on his tongue like bitter, underripe Mediterranean olives.

"We're gonna have to disembark soon," he said quietly, leaving he implied 'goodbye' hanging in the air over their heads.

"I know," Tony grumbled, tightening his hold on Bucky as though he could keep him there by sheer force of will, if he tried.

Bucky's hands tightened on his hip and around a handful of Tony's shirt at the middle of his back. "You gonna come visit tomorrow?" He asked, trying to be nonchalant about it and failing miserably.

"What's in it for me?" Tony joked, knowing Bucky would hear and feel the unspoken 'yes'.

Rhodey made a gagging sound. "Oh my God," he complained, "take that sap out of my wheelhouse and into a bedroom, where it belongs."

Bucky laughed at Rhodey outright. "Fine, fine. Come on, Tony," he suggested, turning Tony toward the hatch and starting to walk, "let's go find the Cap and the others."

Tony gave in and let Bucky direct him. He didn't have anything against that, and getting to spend some more time with Steve sounded like a good idea. Even if they couldn't hold hands or touch in public.

As it turned out, he and Bucky didn't have to go far to find Steve. They stumbled across him as he wandered the corridors of the airship almost aimlessly, an expression of mingled boredom and longing on his face. It took him a moment to realise why Steve was doing that; their third had been waiting for Bucky to come back out of the wheelhouse -- with or without Tony, most likely -- and been at a loss for how to keep himself entertained. Or perhaps just that restless. Steve looked up the moment they came into view, and grinned.

"You found him," he commented, sounding pleased.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you even know how ridiculous you are," he asked dryly, then went on, not really needing or wanting an answer. "Of course I found him. This ship's not that big. Anyway. Tony's offering to come visit us sometime after the debrief. Thought I oughtta warn you."

Caught a bit off guard by that, Tony asked, "Why would that require a warning? I thought you were free to see who you wanted, within reason."

"We've none of us ever been much for stupid rules an' restrictions that make no sense," Bucky answered, "and one of those says we're not supposed to tell anyone where we're bunking."

Steve shrugged. "Ordinarily, I don't mind that rule too much, and it does serve a purpose, but now that you're mated to Bucky, I'm inclined to say we might as well throw it out the window," he agreed. "Even if Buck didn't ignore it, I suspect you would."

Tony gave him a half-smile but didn't answer. Steve was right about that, but he wasn't about to admit it out loud. "I'm fairly sure that won't be a problem," he offered instead. "I have some contacts at MI6 and the SSR. And a number of fairly high level clearances of my own."

Neither of them bothered to ask why he hadn't mentioned that before and that was good because Tony himself wasn't entirely sure.

"So you're spending the night here?" Steve asked, breaking the silence that had settled between them.

Tony made a face. "I'd rather go to my apartments in Kensington, but who knows whether Jarvis will allow it. He's being something of a worrywart."

"Well, you do have to be careful, now that you're half bird," Bucky pointed out, "he's right about that."

"Bah. As long as no one at the airfield sees me, it ought to be easy enough to get there," Tony grumbled. "All we'd need is a car with dark windows and a discreet driver."

"And tomorrow?" Steve asked him. "What if you need to go somewhere during daylight hours? Our superiors will want to speak to you, too, after they hear our story."

That was a fair point. "The SSR and the Army brass can come to me, if they have to see the proof of your wild story for themselves," he decided, and saw Steve's eyes briefly flicker to a point behind him before the man looked back at him. "I want to sleep in my bed, on the ground. I want my library, and I want a breakfast that didn't start out in a tin. And it'll be easier to deal with the press from there, in any case. Better to invite one or two agencies to a place of my choosing than leave it to chance, if we're going to go through with this plan of laying a trap for Zemo and Strucker."

"Sounds reasonable to me," Bucky agreed.

"You stubborn son of a bitch," Jarvis grumbled from behind him.

"You know it," he agreed without letting the irritation in Jarvis' tone get to him, then turned to face his old friend, his hand slipping into Bucky's without a conscious decision on his part. "Any objections based in logic and reason, old bird?"

Jarvis glared at him for a long moment then sighed, the sound conveying just how much he didn't like this plan of Tony's. "Fine, call for a car, then. I'm driving."

Tony knew better than to do more than nod and grin, but he did enjoy winning this sort of argument. He nodded and turned to Steve instead of letting himself react more. "Will your team need transport, Captain?"

Steve shrugged, his expression saying that he knew exactly how much glee Tony was forcing down. "It would be nice, but don't you worry about us, Mr. Stark."

Bucky grinned back at Tony then turned his hand so that he could lace their fingers together, casual as you please, setting loose a swarm of butterflies in Tony's stomach in the process. "You might be willing to pass on that implied offer, Cap," he put in, "but I'm not."

Jarvis raised an eyebrow at Bucky. "And you think we have a bus on call, Sergeant?"

"I think Tony wouldn't offer something he couldn't make good on," Bucky parried, winning himself a twitch of Jarvis' lips and a very pleased jolt of feeling from Tony.

"I don't have a bus," Tony admitted, his hand tightening slightly around Bucky's, "but I happen to know that the SSR has a few, and can make a few calls. I'll be calling for a driver of my own anyway."

"Sounds good to me," Steve agreed, then caught Bucky's eyes. "We'll finish packing up our things while we wait."

Tony didn't want to let go, but that was a very clear message Steve was sending. He gave in, but not before he pulled Bucky in for a chaste peck of a kiss. The touch, slight as it had been, lent the butterflies strength. Tony had to force his hand open. "Alright, Bucky, go follow your marching orders, and then come find me once you're done."

Jarvis made a sound that wasn't _quite_ a growl and somehow conveyed both fondness and aggravation, then steered Steve toward the galley by one shoulder. "I swear, those two are going to make me live to truly regret my promise to Howard," he muttered.

Steve chuckled. "I know what you mean," he replied, just before they were out of earshot.

Bucky rolled his eyes. "Why are our friends so dramatic?"

Tony gave him a sardonic look. "Go pack your things," he suggested. "Sooner you're done, sooner we can waste some time kissing while we wait for our transport."

With a mocking salute, Bucky turned and sauntered away down the corridor, but not before Tony could see the mix of wistful longing and resignation that colored his smile. "Sir, yes sir."

Shaking his head with a reluctant smile, Tony turned and headed for the helm again. He'd need the use of the radio, and there was only one on board powerful enough for what he wanted. He needed to discuss approaches for miniaturising the standard issue field radios the Armed Forces used with Jarvis and try to sell Fury on the idea. Something like that would not only make him a lot of money, but also be useful on the kinds of missions he went on with his team. And now probably also with Steve's.

Rhodey looked up, surprised, when he stepped back through the hatch, alone. "Boss? What're you doin' here? I thought you'd be making time with your new boytoy."

"I'd really rather be," Tony admitted openly, "but I have a few calls to make, and he's got to pack up his gear."

"Calls?" Rhodey eyed him suspiciously. "About what?"

"It's far from top secret, don't worry," Tony told him with a wave of his hand. "I'm calling for two sets of wheels, nothing more."

"Jarvis is letting you off the airship?"

Tony grinned at his comrade in arms. "He is. We just need a car. I'll be borrowing one from the SSR, and having them send a pick up for the Captain and his team."

It worked out well, really. The man driving the car he'd be borrowing for his trip out to his apartments could ride back to HQ with the Commandos, and Jarvis could bring the borrowed vehicle back to SSR HQ in the morning.

Rhodey gave him a look that said he doubted Tony's motives but said nothing, simply handing Tony the radio headset and turning back to his careful maneuvers. Handling an airship in the dark of night wasn't too difficult when it came to straight-line flight, and navigation was no different than it was during the daylight hours, really. The complex part was landing the craft. In flight things like crosswinds could be compensated for, with hardly a noticeable impact on the craft's operation, but landing and mooring required a lot of precision. Rhodey would have to keep the airship pointed as perfectly into the wind as possible, and then match the engine output to the strength of the wind just right. London had some hangar space dedicated to airships, but it was always highly in demand, and not even Tony Stark could simply reserve a berth there on short notice.

Maybe, he decided, he ought to build himself a hangar for his airship. Somewhere relatively near his apartments.

He put the thought aside for the moment, and settled in to fiddle with the radio's dials. SSR HQ ought to have someone manning their radios, even this late in the night. And whoever it was could either open up the motor pool for him, or find someone who could. Tony pressed the transmit button with a sense of satisfaction, and didn't bother to hide the smile on his face. This mission of his had gone sideways so badly it was FUBAR, but it had netted him Bucky. And Steve, for all that none of them could breathe a word about that.

The radio operator's -- crisp, British, and very definitely feminine -- voice broke into his thoughts. "SSR HQ, Agent Carter. Please identify yourself."

Tony's eyebrows rose. He hadn't expected Steve's contact to pick up. "Evening, Agent Carter. Tony Stark calling on behalf of the Howling Commandos. If it's not too much trouble, they'd appreciate a ride back to HQ from Heathrow airfield, and I'd like to borrow a car to get to my own home."

A short stunned silence reigned, and then she started swearing at him about operational protocols, clearances, and what sounded like pretty much anything else she could think of. Tony laughed. He was pretty sure he was going to like this dame.


	8. [Steve POV]

It had taken about half an hour for him and Bucky to finish packing up all their gear after they'd taken their leave of Tony and Jarvis. After that, they'd found themselves at loose ends, but they didn't have a chance to enjoy it. In fact, it lasted just long enough for the rest of their team to gather around them and Tony to emerge from the helm to announce that he'd made contact with Agent Carter, who would shortly be arriving at the airfield with a pair of vehicles.

"Bon, nous ne devons pas marcher," Dernier commented, looking pleased.

Gabe gave him a look. "True, but Carter is gonna start grilling us before we make it back to HQ."

"Steve will probably get the worst of it," Bucky pointed out.

With a quiet sigh, Steve nodded. "Probably."

"Well, you are nominally in charge," Monty pointed out, half-successfully hiding a smile.

"Yeah, I am. For my sins," he agreed solemnly.

His resigned tone got him chuckles or smirks from everyone in the room. A short silence reigned, and then -- just as they felt the airship come to a gentle stop with a thump and a shudder that went through the floor underfoot -- Rhodes sauntered into the room. "We've arrived," he announced unnecessarily.

Steve nodded. "Alright, team, let's go."

"If we don't get to bed before midnight," Dumdum grumbled, "there'll be hell to pay tomorrow."

Morita laughed and slapped at Dumdum's shoulder companionably. "Sleep in the car, then," he suggested.

"Agent Carter wouldn't stand for that," Monty put in as he turned and headed for the corridor, trusting that the others would follow. "You're better off waiting until we get back to our quarters."

Tony hung back, and Steve watched enviously as Bucky did, too, tangling his fingers with Tony's. Steve caught Bucky's eyes and watched as they all but fell into one another for a brief moment, and almost felt guilty for forcing them apart, for all that he would be forcing himself away from Tony as well. They very reluctantly let go of each other, and Bucky visibly swallowed back what Steve suspected was a pained sound or possibly a plea for Tony to go with them.

He'd have to make a chance to spend some time with Bucky. Watching his best friend and soulmate tumble head over heels for Tony when Steve couldn't touch either of them in public was a kind of pain he'd never felt before, and decided he didn't want to feel again if he could help it. "Come on, Buck," he said quietly, "it's time."

Tony made a quiet sound in the back of his throat that had Rhodes putting a hand on his boss's shoulder in an attempt to offer comfort... or maybe keep him from bolting after them.

"It won't be for long, Tony," Bucky offered, but didn't reach back out to him.

"Take the second driver with you," Tony answered after he'd cleared his throat roughly. "Jarvis will be driving our car. Come by my apartments tomorrow, Bucky, or I'll have to come find you."

For all that Tony's tone of voice hinted that he had no problem making his way to SHIELD HQ to do just that -- and find both of them -- Steve felt a pang go through him at the thought that he would have to stay behind when Bucky went for that visit, and had to grit his teeth to keep himself from saying something that would make their relationship obvious in front of Rhodes.

Bucky gave Tony a look that spoke volumes. "And how am I supposed to do that without an address?"

"Oh, that's easy. It's 159 Argyll Road. I own the house, so don't worry about ringing the wrong bell or whatever. No one else there to get offended." Tony replied airily, as though owning a house in one of the most expensive districts in London was nothing.

And perhaps to him it was. Steve abruptly wondered what on earth he could offer someone like Tony, who already had everything he could wish for and more besides. Why had the universe decided to match them up?

Bucky's hand landed on his shoulder, and Steve had to work hard not to jump. "Come on, Cap," Bucky prompted him. "If we don't get moving, Carter will climb aboard looking for you."

Rhodes snorted, caught between exasperation and amusement. "Yeah, get outta here, already. Y'all are acting like you'll never see each other again."

As though it pained him to do so just as much as Steve, Bucky nodded and turned. Steve followed him out into the corridor, each step sending a shiver of indecision and faint wrongness through him. Somehow leaving the airship was making his instincts go haywire. Everything in him was insisting that he and Bucky should stay close to Tony and keep him safe.

The short walk down the gangplank and the stairs to ground level seemed interminable, and Steve was unsurprised to see that his team and Agent Carter were waiting for them, just as Bucky had predicted.

Gabe grinned at him. "Had to say your goodbyes, Barnes?"

"What's it to you, Jones?" Bucky shot back, smirking. "Did you want a goodbye kiss yourself, or somethin'?"

The team laughed and started arranging themselves in the small troop transport Peggy had brought them. Her eyes narrowed, but she didn't comment on the exchange. Instead, she prodded at Steve. "So where is Stark?"

Steve shrugged, feeling the lingering tension in his muscles. "He wants to keep his presence in the city as quiet as he can get away with for now. We're taking the other driver back to base with us."

Peggy's lips pursed and she watched him steadily for a few long seconds. "You can't tell a lie to save your life, Steven," she told him, "but you don't do it without a reason. I'll wait to pry the details out of you until we have a little more privacy."

He rubbed at the nape of his neck, feeling the skin heat slightly under his fingers. "I'd appreciate that," he managed, not quite meeting her eyes.

True to her word, she spent the trip back to headquarters grilling them about their mission instead. That was safe enough for the driver to overhear, Steve assumed. She wouldn't have mentioned any of it, otherwise. And since she had driven one of the vehicles herself, there was only one stranger among them. If any of this information got out, it would be simple to track down the painfully young private taking them through the dark city and pin him to a wall.

It was only when they got to the topic of their unauthorised side trip that Steve put his foot down. "Agent Carter," he broke into her interrogation of Dumdum, "I would prefer to discuss that portion of the mission more privately."

Her eyebrows went up, and she stared at him for a moment before her lips narrowed. "There had best be a very good reason for that, Captain," she told him, keeping up appearances for their driver, who was listening avidly and pretending not to.

Monty chuckled quietly. "There is," he assured her. "Hand to God, I didn't believe my eyes at first, but that's why this is important."

The rest of the team nodded, adding their support to his position as they always did, and Steve had to shut his eyes for a moment against the wash of gratitude and relief that swept through him.

Peggy wasn't pleased about it, but she let the topic go. "Very well. Tomorrow. 0800 hours, in our usual conference room. I will brief Colonel Phillips and Director Fury about the portions of the mission we have discussed so far."

Morita grinned. "We're almost at our barracks anyway," he pointed out, "were you gonna follow us into our quarters to finish this debrief?"

That got a round of tired but knowing grins from everyone but Peggy, who tried to quell him with a severe glance and failed. Steve just knew that Morita would feel the aftereffects of that comment in the morning, but he kept his mouth shut.

The transport came to a halt, then, and one by one, they climbed out. Monty was first, and he made a beeline for the door of their assigned quarters. Everyone else followed his lead without a word. Steve waited until the rest of his team had gotten their feet on the ground before he joined them, giving Peggy a nod and a 'good night, Agent Carter,' in place of a salute.

The transport didn't move until they were all safely inside the building. Gabe caught his attention and raised an eyebrow. "Almost like Carter's a bit suspicious."

Dumdum shook his head. "Burning up with curiosity, more like," he disagreed.

"Go to sleep," Steve suggested. "We'll deal with that in the morning."

"Aye, Cap'n," Gabe teased him, but turned and headed down the dimly lit hallway to his bunk.

Steve took a moment to be thankful that their team was currently the only one quartered in this building. It had once been a reasonably sized townhouse split into three apartments. Now each of its six bedrooms had been refurnished to house two men, barracks style. The fittings had been left intact in areas like the kitchen and bedroom, though, and they took full advantage of that anytime they had enough downtime to do so... and weren't so worn down and tired that merely thinking about showering made them want to sleep for a week.

The rest of the team was in the apartment on the ground floor. He and Bucky had claimed the uppermost one for themselves, wanting a bit of privacy. The privileges of rank had their good side, too. 

The moment the door closed behind them, Bucky was pressed up against him, shivers running through him.

"You alright, Buck?" Steve let his arms go around his mated, pressing his fingertips to the strip of bare skin at Bucky's waist and forcing down a shiver of his own at the jolt of anxiety that shot through him.

"I--" Bucky started, then had to take a shuddering breath. Slowly, the anxiety subsided, and eventually he managed to speak. "I think it's just being away from Tony. The two'a us… we've always been near enough to touch if we needed to, even when we couldn't do it in public. But we only just found him and now Tony's out of reach."

That made a certain amount of sense, but... "But it's hitting you hard, Buck," he pointed out, letting one of his hands drift up to rest between Bucky's shoulder blades. "A lot harder than me."

Bucky all but melted against him, and Steve didn't bother resisting the urge to peel him out of his jacket and shirt. Bucky needed the comfort of skin on skin, and while Steve couldn't produce Tony out of thin air, he liked to think touching him would be at least as good. Bucky put up no protests, actively helping him remove the clothes, then stripping off the uniform jacket and cowl Steve wore.

"I dunno, Steve," he managed to say, voice low, as he plastered himself against Steve again. "Maybe whatever magic Tony got hit with opened the taps wide. But it's been wearing at me since the moment we moored in London."

Huffing at him in fond amusement, Steve moved them carefully to the bed. "Come here, then. Come take what you need."

It was rare enough that they had any kind of privacy, really, so they had to take full advantage of the chances they got. Bucky knew that just as well as he did, but Steve could tell Bucky was still worrying at the edges of his bond with Tony. Rather than face that issue head on, though, he took the opportunity to get them settled on his bed, still clothed from the waist down and their legs tangled together, their chests and bellies pressed together. It was a cozy, reassuring kind of position, for them. One they'd taken advantage of any number of times before, and was still one of the most comfortable for them, even if before the war Steve had always been on top. Now they traded off, and it was Bucky's turn to play blanket.

The moment they were settled, Bucky wormed his arms under Steve, tucking his forearms under Steve's shoulder blades and holding on tightly. "'M bein' ridiculous, aren't I?" Bucky muttered into his shoulder.

"No," Steve disagreed. "You're tellin' me what you need, an' that's important."

Bucky huffed at him, but didn't contradict him. Mostly, Steve suspected, because he put just as much weight on those times when Steve voiced his wishes. Neither of them was particularly vocal about that sort of thing. They could read one another well enough not to need to put words to such things, most of the time, but on occasion they'd gotten it wrong, even despite their bond and their long friendship.

Steve let the situation ride, just as it was, for a few minutes, feeling the tension leaking slowly out of Bucky as the stability of their own bond began to outweigh not having Tony nearby. He hoped Tony was weathering the separation without being hit quite as hard by it as Bucky was.

"Steve," Bucky said, breaking the silence, "you’re worrying too much."

"But--"

Bucky cut off his words by kissing him, surprising him into stillness. They'd never done that before. Never quite dared, always being limited by Steve's health issues, or surrounded by officials who were likely to disapprove. Hell, even now, they weren't really safe--

"Steve," Bucky broke the kiss to bite at his lip hard, making Steve draw a hitching breath and roll his hips against Bucky's, "stop _thinking_."

"Should--" Steve started and had to clear his throat. "Shouldn't we talk about this?"

"I don't wanna talk," Bucky told him, somehow making it sound totally reasonable. "I want you. And tomorrow I wanna do this again properly, with Tony."

Steve gave in. He let Bucky have free rein, touching, tasting, and exploring in ways that neither of them had before, then returned the favor, rolling them so that Bucky was the one pinned to the mattress and painstakingly taking him apart with fingers, teeth, and tongue.

They fell asleep halfway through the afterglow, and Steve knew they'd likely regret that in the morning, but he couldn't bring himself to move.


	9. [Bucky POV]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE NOTE: This chapter comes with a companion "fic" located [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208264).

As she'd promised, Agent Carter had briefed the rest of the brass on what they'd reported so far. She, Phillips, and Fury still insisted on rehashing a lot of it, but he wasn't listening. Bucky spent his time trying to work out how best to keep his promise to Tony. And cash in his demand to Steve.

It was only once they started talking about the portions of the mission that involved Tony that Bucky set aside his attempts to plan.

"So," Phillips was saying, "you're saying that your mission went according to plan."

"Yes, sir." Steve agreed.

"Then why in the Sam Hill did Agent Carter inform me that _Tony Stark_ gave you a lift back to London?" came the predictable demand. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"That's a question that would be easier to answer with him present, Sir." Steve met Phillips' eyes evenly, without flinching. "That's the most sensitive part of this mission debrief, really."

Bucky snorted. "I doubt you'd believe the story without talkin' to Stark anyway," he put in.

Director Fury gave them a measuring look and chewed on the end of his -- as yet unlit -- cigar. "Then call him here," he suggested. "He's got the clearances, Phillips."

Dumdum chuckled. "That's logistically difficult, Director, sir. We'd be better off going to see him."

That statement got him the attention of all three of their interrogators. Agent Carter was the one to break the disbelieving silence. "Why is that, Corporal?"

"Well, ma'am, Mr. Stark went and got himself caught in some kinda magical backlash or somethin'. He's not in any kind of shape to be walking or driving anywhere." Dugan answered, phrasing the absolute truth in a very misleading fashion. No doubt because he wanted to savour the trio's reactions when they saw Tony for themselves.

Steve didn't bat an eye at the half-truth. "Precisely. Thanks, Dugan."

Phillips tried to stare Steve down again, then gave in. "Jesus, when are your team's missions _not_ a three ring circus, Rogers?"

The whole team looked a bit abashed. Monty was the one to reply. "Unfortunately, that's pretty rare, sir. Our Captain seems to attract trouble of a rather esoteric sort."

Agent Carter sniffed. "I rather thought he sought it out."

Steve shrugged, giving her a rueful smile. "Not actively?"

"Go find us some transport, then," Phillips ordered, sounding like he was slowly reaching the end of his patience for their evasions. "It seems we're all making a trip out to Kensington."

Steve caught his eyes. "Sergeant? If you would?"

"Of course," Bucky took the excuse gladly. He pushed his chair back to stand with a polite nod. "I'll be right back, Sirs and Ma'am."

He made his way down the corridor to the duty desk quickly but not hastily. It was a relief to be able to leave the room, where he didn't have to hide his excitement and glee any longer. Seemed he wouldn't have to plot and finagle his way out to Tony's house; the brass would be taking him there. The whole thing was the perfect camouflage, and a way to convince the brass that they hadn't been kidding about just how quiet they needed to keep this whole affair. Bucky approved of the tactic. This was very well played on Steve's and Dugan's parts, orchestrated for maximum effectiveness. It was clear that Carter, Phillips and Fury were familiar with Tony and some of the insanity that followed him around. Enough so, at least, not to question Steve's assessment much.

When he arrived at his goal, he briefly commandeered the intercom long enough to request said transport and get an estimate as to the length of time required for it to be at the main entrance of the building. That task accomplished, he thanked the duty officer and headed briskly back to the conference room.

"-- sitting around on our asses," Fury was grumbling, though he broke off when Bucky re-entered the room. "Well?"

"It's done, sir. There will be a transport waiting for us at the main entrance five minutes from," he checked his watch, "two minutes ago."

Agent Carter flipped her portfolio closed. "Shall we, gentlemen?"

"After you, Agent Carter," Phillips replied with a hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

The old warhorse always did have a soft spot for Carter, Bucky reflected as the brass preceded them through the door of the conference room, though he kept that thought behind his teeth. He knew better than to voice something like that -- and much less right before the debrief that was almost certainly going to reveal his bond to Tony.

Getting the team settled on the transport and driving out to Kensington felt like it lasted an eternity, for all that his watch claimed it had been under ten minutes. Bucky had to bite down on the urge to suggest the driver hit the gas four times in the span between HQ and Tony's London home. Once they finally arrived, it took all of his self-control to let the rest of the team lead the way off back out of the vehicle and through the front gates of the townhouse's small yard. Morita was the one to ring the bell.

Once the door finally opened to reveal Jarvis, they were treated to a dark scowl. "I suppose this was inevitable," Tony's old friend grumbled at them. "Alright, come in. I'll fetch Mr. Stark."

Jarvis brusquely settled them in a comfortable sitting room, then vanished again to the ringing sound of silence. Somewhere, off in another room, a grandfather clock ticked loudly. The sitting room they were in reminded Bucky of Tony's cabin on the airship... or perhaps, he realised, that ought to be phrased the other way around. The upholstery was done in a shade of burgundy red that perfectly offset the cream of the subtly patterned wallpaper and the oak wood paneling. The seats were plush and comfortable, but Bucky found he just couldn't settle. Knowing that Tony was home and not in the room with him was making him edgy and tense. Monty gave him a knowing look, while Gabe smirked at him. Steve looked like he wanted to get up and pace, himself.

Eventually, what felt like another eternity later but had probably been three minutes at most, just as Bucky was tempted to give in to the urge to jump up and go search for Tony, the man of the hour appeared. "So, what brings you all to my humble abode today?" Tony asked, his tone a confident drawl, as he stepped into the room.

Bucky could see the moment Tony came into view in the way the all three of their superior officers openly stared, gaping at Tony in shock.

"God damn it, Stark," Fury said on a sigh, after a few moments. "What the Hell happened to you? And what does that have to do with Phillips' prize commando team?"

"That's a bit of a long story," Tony replied with a shrug, perching on the back of the sofa at Bucky's right shoulder. Bucky took the opportunity to lean back until his shoulder was pressed against Tony's hip, feeling a sense of relief flood through him despite the clothing between them. "I hope you've got a few hours free," Tony added after a beat.

Phillips scowled. "Just spit it out."

Dernier grinned. "Vous êtes en meilleur santé qu'hier, Stark," he observed, getting a glare from Phillips, who clearly saw the comment as a stalling tactic.

Gabe nodded but kept quiet. Monty gave Tony a close look, but didn't break his silence either.

Tony shrugged and started talking. Bucky listened closely. Not even he had heard the full story behind Tony's capture.

"Alright, it's like this," Tony said slowly, apparently marshalling his thoughts. "I don't remember everything that happened because I was unconscious for parts of it. But the short version of a long story is that I was taken prisoner by HYDRA at Castle Donar, and along with me they managed to get their hands on some orichalcum. That stuff's valuable -- it's got amazing energy conduction and storage properties -- and I expect that Strucker and Zemo wanted it for precisely that reason. But that's not what you want to hear right now. We can talk about that later. What happened after they took me is a bit ... patchy. I woke up briefly a few times, but those are just fragmented images that make no sense. Once I regained consciousness for real, I was quite securely strapped to a table in an empty laboratory filled with medical supplies. It wasn't long before Strucker came in -- they must have had someone watching for the moment I was awake -- and he was carrying an object I believe to be the Cosmic Cube. As the name implies, it's a cube. It glows blue and grants the wielder a fair bit of power over the fabric of reality. I expect HYDRA wanted to attempt to channel its power through the orichalcum somehow. But they weren't doing that around me. Instead," Tony straightened his spine and spread out his wings a little, showing them off to the trio of officers seated opposite him. "Instead they chose to use it to do this to me. Why, I don't know. I didn't have a chance to find out. The pain knocked me right out again, and when I came to after that, your strike team was carrying me out of the castle."

Agent Carter's expression was somewhat pinched. "You know, Stark, if I didn't have the proof right in front of me, I'd question your sanity."

"There's more," Tony told her with a smirk.

Director Fury looked like he was going to chew right through his cigar. "You gonna tell us what that is?"

Tony's hand buried itself in Bucky's hair, and he fought not to react as Tony's nerves, weariness, and unhappiness hit him like a punch to the gut. Unsuccessfully, judging by the expressions Phillips, Carter, and Fury wore. "Uh," he managed to say as the weight of Tony's exhaustion and relief washed over him like a tidal wave, and took rational thought with it. Tony clearly hadn't had an easy night without him and Steve there. Bucky decided on the spot that he wasn't leaving, tonight. Fuck the rules and regulations. His mated needed him here.

"I found my soulmate," Tony informed them simply, as Bucky worked on processing what he was feeling.

Tony had obviously taken their separation as hard as he had, or maybe harder. Bucky doubted Tony had slept a wink last night, judging by the way he felt right now, and that was not ideal considering Tony was still recovering from whatever Zemo and Strucker had done to him. He wanted nothing more than to pull Tony into his arms right now. Wanted to wrap Tony in blankets and in his arms and hold him there until he was back up to fighting strength. To protect and defend and hold him, like he did Steve. Bucky had to force his expression not to change too much under the weight of his own emotions, that time, rather than Tony's. He found himself longing for the moment that he could make good on his demand to Steve and curl up on a bed with them both. With or without sex.

"And that's Barnes?" Phillips looked almost skeptical.

Bucky shook off his near reverie as best he could and nodded. "Yes, sir. None of us expected anything like that, but, well. It happened."

Fury gave Tony a look that attempted to pin him to the wall behind him. "I suppose that means you want in on this team's mission briefings," he asked.

Tony laughed. "No, Director. I expect to go on the missions with them."

"I'm sure you're aware of the regulations that state soulmated pairs are not permitted to serve in the same unit," Agent Carter put in. "How do you propose to remedy that?"

"Simple," Tony shrugged. "It would be my team working cooperatively with your team. Not a single unit."

His abuse of that loophole got amused snorts out of most of the people present in the room.

"Alright, smart guy," Phillips drawled. "But how do you plan to keep your suddenly feathery ass out of the news?"

"I don't." Tony replied promptly, and went back to toying with Bucky's hair. The move made Bucky want to melt against him and he saw the brief flicker of envy cross Steve's face. Tony went on speaking as though nothing had happened between them, "As soon as there's an opportune moment, I intend to tell the Press about it myself, so that I can keep some measure of control over what they print... and hopefully also lure Strucker and Zemo out into the open."

Agent Carter considered that. "It's not the worst plan I've ever heard," she conceded, "but you'll have to put it aside for the time being. There's trouble brewing at Peenemünde and we were planning to send in the good Captain and his team to assist in putting out that particular fire."

Steve's ears all but pricked up. "What's happening at Peenemünde?"

Fury growled something uncomplimentary under his breath about the Germans. "Nothing good, that's for damned sure. So the Allied forces are planning an assault, and they've requested you and your team of yahoos spearhead it."

Bucky wanted to groan. Barely back from their last mission and they were already getting deployed again? He'd hoped to spend at least a few calm nights with Tony.

Gabe jumped in. "What exactly would we be doing there, sir? We're a team that specialises in covert operations and demolitions. Not full scale frontal assaults on well-defended enemy emplacements."

"That's what I told them, myself," Phillips responded, "but they're insisting that they need a figurehead in bright blue tights to help morale."

Dumdum made a derisive sound. "That's all they want us for? Morale?"

"Morale is something we're good at, but I don't like the idea of getting shot at while inspiring it." Bucky put in and let himself lean harder against Tony, when he felt the shiver of worry go through his mated.

Peggy huffed at them and rolled her eyes expressively. "That's not the only reason you're being deployed," she told them, sounding like she was offended that they'd assumed they would be there as window dressing and nothing more, after the way Phillips had pitched the idea. "You'll be doing just what you do best, after inspiring said morale. Once you've done your patriotic duty to the Allied forces," she said with an appropriately amused and suggestive expression in her voice and eyes, "you'll be conducting a sabotage mission. Your infiltration is set for four days from now. The details are [all in the briefing file](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208264) as per usual, but I'll give you the precis. Your insertion point is on the southern side of the peninsula near the power plant[1]. You're to disable it using whatever means necessary before proceeding north along the road to the research facilities, which you are to ransack for any and all information and unique materiel before heading to the V2 test site V for extraction."

Tony growled an almost voiceless blue streak. "What, precisely, does 'unique materiel' mean, Agent Carter?"

Director Fury was the one to answer him. "It means, Stark, that the Jerries have been doing experiments there that result in very strange weather phenomena, and we want whatever devices they have been using to cause that. Preferably in our own hands, but if that won't work, we'll accept having them destroyed along with all documentation."

Steve nodded slowly. "Do we have any intel on what these devices look like? What they can do?"

Phillips snorted. "If we did, we wouldn't be sending you in."

Gabe sighed. "Great. With our luck it'll be those damned man-evaporating ray guns all over again."

Dernier shrugged. "Au moins, nous savons comment gérer ceux-ci," he muttered, referring to the way they'd worked out how the damned things had worked during their imprisonment at the Kreischberg factory after they'd lost to the Krauts at Azzano.

Agent Carter surveyed the room, then turned her attention to Tony again. "If you intend to go with them, Stark," she told him, "it's up to you to work out the logistics, given your... new attributes."

Tony's hand tightened in Bucky's hair in what had to be an unconscious reaction to the way everyone in the room was suddenly staring at him again. Bucky took the opportunity to put his arm around Tony and pull him in closer. The move made the hand in his hair relax and Tony cleared his throat.

"Well," he replied, "that's not such a problem. I can travel there separately and stay aboard my airship until dark. Afterward, we'll be out of sight of the rank and file."

"And more focused on assaulting the base," Bucky spoke up long enough to add.

Steve nodded, apparently ready to make his decision. "Alright, we'll take the assignment. Dernier, Morita, you're on deck to talk to the Quartermaster. See if he has the replacement parts and other specialised supplies we need. Jones, Falsworth, you're with them, but working the other side of things. We'll need an inventory of everything that does and doesn't work, prioritised according to how badly and how soon we need it replaced. Dugan, do what you can to keep things organised. We'll probably have to pack and leave in a hurry. Barnes, you're with me. We need to hash out a few details with Mr. Stark and his team, for this. This is exactly the kind of mission that can go bad in an instant, and we need to have a few contingency plans in place."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] For those who'd like to know a bit more about this place, here is a [link to the relevant museum website](https://museum-peenemuende.de/the-museum/ausstellungen/?lang=en). Click here to return to text.


	10. [Tony POV]

What had happened in that sitting room amazed him even now.

All of thirty seconds after he'd crossed the threshold of the room, all the lingering pain and tension he'd suffered since Steve and Bucky had gone back to their respective bunks seemed like it had just flowed out of him. Like water down the drain after he pulled the plug on his bath. Perching on the back of the loveseat that Bucky had been sitting in had helped even more, sending warmth curling through his gut like a hot water bottle on a cold winter night. When Bucky had all but melted into his side sending back worry and a desire to touch, he'd wanted nothing more than to just drag Bucky off to bed, and to hell with the debrief.

He hadn't paid too much attention to the proceedings until the brass had brought up Peenemünde, and the associated mission parameters, such as they were.

Once the debrief had ended and Steve had made his decisions, he'd watched everyone who had their marching orders file out after the visiting brass and bit back a sigh. Barely back in friendly territory and they were already preparing for the next run?

Tony reached over and snatched the briefing file out of Steve's hands. Flipping through it he nodded slowly. "This... isn't going to be an easy milk run, Captain."

Steve nodded. "I know. You up for it? I won't think less of you for staying out of this."

"If you think I'm going to let you morons go haring off on your own for this, you've got another think coming," Tony retorted, studying one of the maps in the briefing file.

Bucky huffed at him and stepped up behind him to pull him into a hug and rest his chin on Tony's shoulder, his stubble and the fabric of his shirt catching on Tony's feathers. Tony let himself enjoy the feeling of the strong arms around him for a long moment, closing his eyes and allowing the warmth flooding through him at the touch to relax him.

"Alright," Steve conceded, and Tony could hear his smile in his voice, "in that case we definitely need those contingency plans. That is non-negotiable."

Tony grumbled a few curses under his breath. Why did everyone seem to think he was suicidally reckless? He only charged into uncertain situations when the alternatives were worse. A backup plan would definitely not go amiss, here. He knew just how tight the defenses were at Peenemünde, and having their mission go sideways on them would be their deaths, in all likelihood. They'd be cut off from reinforcements in the form of the Allied invasion forces, their backup in the form of the airship would be out of reach, and HYDRA would be doing their damnedest to keep the base from falling into enemy hands or getting destroyed. The V2 rockets being developed there were critical to the Axis war effort.

"Tony," Bucky chastised him mildly, but didn't do more than that.

Tony relaxed back into his soulmate's hold. "Bucky," he replied in kind.

Steve raised an eyebrow at them, but it was Jarvis who got things moving. "Well, let's get to planning, then," he put in, verbally prodding at them, then staring Steve down until he herded Bucky and Tony out of the sitting room.

Tony reluctantly pulled just far enough away from Bucky that he could lead the way to his study and a bit of privacy. He kept his hold on Bucky's hand, though, not wanting to give up that contact, and warmed all the way through by the way Bucky very clearly didn't want to let go of him either, making petulant faces at him and then twining their fingers together instead.

As they walked, Rhodey joined their little procession, appearing out of the foyer as they passed it on their way to the narrow stairs. His pilot's eyes lingered for a moment on the way his fingers were twined with Bucky's, but he didn't comment. A slight smile tugged at the corners of his lips instead.

Before Tony could decide what to say, Jarvis was stepping past him to open the workroom door and Steve followed his old friend and field medic. Rhodey cleared his throat, waiting for them to clear the doorway.

Bucky tugged him through the door and watched as Tony closed it, then turned to him and caught his eye. "Tony," he said quietly, "I know you felt the pain of being apart as much as I did last night. It's lingering. We're not doing that again, unless there's no other way forward. Either you're staying with us or we're staying with you."

"Hah," Jarvis sounded almost triumphant. "I knew it. You try to feed me that hogwash about magical aftereffects again, and I'm calling Barnes in."

Steve huffed, almost amused. Tony saw the way his hands twitched like he wanted to pull Tony into his arms, though. Saw the envy and wistfulness, and in that moment _hated_ that they had to keep that part of their relationship under wraps.

Somehow, Steve managed to keep his voice even when he replied, "You do that, Mr. Jarvis. I don't like the idea that we'd be down by two of our best men for no reason, if they're feeling the effects of separation that intensely."

Jarvis nodded decisively. "It's nice to have someone else working to keep him in one piece," he commented, and Tony let his head fall back with a groan.

"If you're done criticising my lifestyle choices," he said to Jarvis, "perhaps we ought to discuss the mission itself?"

Rhodey made a thoughtful sound. "How exactly do you plan to help them on this mission, anyway, boss? Your armour got slagged at Donar, you said."

Steve gave him a sharp look, his eyes narrowing. "That's true," he said, voice going low and almost dangerous. "How do you intend to fight? Hand-to-hand isn't your specialty, as I recall. I'll need to know so that I can build it into my plans."

Straightening, Tony caught and held Steve's eyes. "I can fight without my armour," he defended himself, hearing the hint of offended pride in his own tone, "I'm a good shot with just about any gun you care to shove into my hands and I know my way around most explosives. In a pinch, I can also use a bullwhip, but it's not the best weapon in a gunfight."

"That was before you got turned into a bird-man," Bucky pointed out, but his tone wasn't unkind. "Have you tried training since?"

Tony hated having to admit it, but, "No."

Bucky's grip on his hand tightened slightly, and Tony allowed his mated to calm him that way. Just a little. It wasn't like he was already falling head over heels for the handsome asshole. Not at all.

Steve caught Rhodey's eye. "Has he got a place nearby where he _could_ train?" He asked skeptically. "This doesn't seem like the place to go to get any privacy."

"You're right, Cap, it isn't," Rhodey replied with a shrug. "But I don't see why you'd bother trying to train him up in the time you've got. It'd be faster to modify one of his armours to fit his new... what'd'ya even call 'em? Limbs? Whatever."

"That's not a bad idea," Bucky agreed. "You got enough time to do it, Tony?"

He considered the question. That would require reworking the entire back of the suit. He'd have to either make it fit a lot tighter to his skin so that he could shove his wings and tail through and still move them or use them at all... or find a way to cover his feathered parts instead and fight the way he was more accustomed to. Either variant would be difficult to pull off. "I think so?" He said after he'd thought it through that much.

"Good. Then we'll do things that way," Steve decided. "Anything I need to know about the armour's capabilities?"

Jarvis laughed at him. "We're not about to give up _all_ our secrets to you at once, Captain," he replied, "but I'll tell you this much. It can stand up to any calibre of weapon commonly found on the battlefields, short of heavy artillery shells, and can fly distances of up to a klick and a half. Comes with a decently stocked armoury of its own, though it can run out of ammunition pretty easily if you're not careful."

Holding up his hands in mock-surrender, Steve accepted that. "Alright, then I think we can let things ride, for now. We should reconvene before we leave London to discuss the fine tuning of the plan, and any last changes we need to make, but for now the first priority is modification of that armour Mr. Stark plans to wear."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Who says you get to call the shots around here?"

Bucky dropped his head onto Tony's shoulder. "Tony," he said on a sigh, "please don't start that pissing contest. Just roll with it for now. We can hash out the chain of command bullshit later."

"Actually, it's written in the mission brief that I'm CO," Steve pointed out, blithely ignoring that it had been written before the brass -- or anyone else -- had known that Tony would be taking part.

"Fine, Rogers," Tony gave in with a grumble, throttling back the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, "if it means that much to you. I'm going down to my workshop. You coming, Bucky?"

"Me?" Startled, Bucky straightened like he'd been stuck with a pin. "What for?"

"Design input. You know the captain's fighting style better than anyone else here. He'd forget to tell me about the stuff he does without thinking but you won't," Tony told him, and watched Bucky's eyes fill with a mix of frustration and pleasure.

"Alright, you're on," he agreed, grinning at Tony in a way that threatened to send shivers down his spine and made his knees go a little watery. "Lead the way."

Without a word, Tony did just that, leading his mated out the door, still holding his hand, while Jarvis and Rhodey continued quizzing Steve about something or other to do with the mission. He wasn't paying attention to that, though. Nor Steve's expression, which very clearly telegraphed that he wanted to follow them out of the room.

His mind was on the adjustments he needed to try to make to his armour. He had spares of every part, from the lightweight outer steel-titanium alloy plating right down to the individual nuts and bolts. Enough to rebuild it from the ground up without waiting to machine anything, if he had to. But the changes he'd have to incorporate were going to be tough to get right without Bucky's input.

They made their way back down the narrow stairs, concrete rather than creaky old oak, this time, past the sitting room and the kitchen, then to a locked door at the very back of the house. It led to another set of narrow stairs tucked underneath those they'd just descended, and into a bunker-like basement that Tony had carefully reinforced further. He'd also greatly expanded the space. What had initially been nothing more than a small damp space intended to serve as a bomb shelter, was now a large open space, brightly lit, and with air circulation good enough to keep it reasonably dry, even when in the heaviest of rainstorms. Said basement now extended beyond the foundations of the house and sprawled out to take up the entirety of the space under the garden at the back of the house to a depth of about three meters.

Along the wall nearest the stairs stood his drafting table. Beyond it, his tool chests, the generator he used to power his pneumatic tools, the concealed trapdoor that lead up into the garden -- which opened onto a space concealed by thickly planted and well-trimmed shrubbery for a bit of privacy -- and the hoist he and Jarvis used to maneuver the assembled armour in and out of the basement workshop. In the center of the open floorspace was a wide bare area he used for assembly and testing of the armour and its various components, currently empty. Jarvis' armour was still aboard the airship and his own had been destroyed beyond repair at Donar, albeit while he'd been unconscious. He still didn't know just what Zemo and Strucker had done to it, but they'd come to him and gloated about ruining his best means of escape a day or so before they'd used the Cosmic Cube to give him his wings.

Bucky took in the workspace and whistled. "Nice. Very nice."

Giving him a wink and enjoying the almost covetous look on Bucky's face, Tony tugged him over toward the drafting table. Using his chair was sadly not an option at the moment given that it had a back and armrests, so he'd have to stand until he found a stool, but so be it. "I'm glad you approve," he quipped, before reluctantly letting go of him to pull drafting paper and pencils out of their hiding places, "and you can play with my toys later, if you want. Now, I wasn't kidding. Tell me about Steve's quirks. I've never seen him fight."

"Well, the moron fights with a shield," Bucky opened, and Tony snickered at the look of mingled awe and irritation that was plain to read.

"I'd heard about that," Tony put in, blocking in his sketches of the front of the armour and leaving it more or less unchanged for the moment. "Can't say as it made any sense to me, though. How does that even work?"

Bucky made a despairing sound. "He throws it."

Tony froze. How the hell was Steve still _alive_? "He what?"

"He throws the shield. Like a goddamn indestructible three-foot frisbee," Bucky repeated. "It acts like a boomerang, too. Bounces off random shit like a pinball before it lands back in his hand, and I have no idea how the hell he does it. Much less without getting himself shot."

"That I have got to see." Tony muttered, then shook his head in a mixture of disbelief and amazement. "For now, anything else that stands out? Things he does that you have to adjust for?"

Bucky considered the question for a few seconds. "Besides rush in to the fight headlong assuming we'll be able to haul his ass out of the fire?"

Tony gave him a sardonic look. "Got anything more specific you can tell me?"

"He leaves his left flank open constantly, throws his only defense around the battlefield, forgets to carry his radio, and has the ability to pull shit plans out of his ass and then make them work somehow," Bucky listed off. "He's graceful as Fred Astaire on the field but clumsy off it, can shoot almost as well as I can but refuses to, and constantly forgets that his uniform isn't reinforced enough to stand up to .50 cal bullets."

"And you're his guardian angel, then?" Tony asked when Bucky drew a breath, looking like he was about to add more.

"I try," his mated admitted, "but not even I can sight in on six goons at once with a single bullet. He's in stuck fighting in mêlèes so much I usually end up just going after the enemy long distance fighters and snipers. There are better hand-to-hand fighters on the team. Dugan makes a good brawler."

Tony nodded and added some more detail to his sketches. "So what you're saying is that Steve needs better active reinforcement layers for under his uniform and someone to watch his back from right next to him."

"He likes to deploy the team far away from him, 'cause he knows anyone shooting at us will go after him first," Bucky nodded.

Resigning himself to redesigning Steve's uniform as well as his armour once this mission was over, Tony sighed and got down to work. "So," he asked as he sketched in his ideas for his own redesign, which had a slightly higher priority at the moment, "armour up the wings and tail or leave them open to the air?"

Bucky gave him a lingering once over that made his skin tingle. "Putting them inside armor seems like it'd interfere with your range of motion too much. And birds get really upset if they can't fly. You can give it a try if you want, but I'd avoid that. But leaving them bare and open to attack doesn't seem like the best plan either. They'd make for massive targets and leave you pretty vulnerable."

"Hmm. Maybe just the leading surface, then. Cover up the parts where the bones and muscles are and leave the rest open to the air," Tony suggested.

"That sounds reasonable to me," Bucky agreed.

A comfortable silence fell between them again until Steve appeared in the doorway and spoke, jolting Tony out of his intense focus. "You two're still down here? Jarvis has dinner served."

Tony shook his head to clear it as Bucky walked over to their third and pulled him in for a chaste peck of a kiss. "You get the rest of the tactics sorted out with Jarvis and Rhodes?"

"More or less," Steve said as Tony stepped away from his drafting table and stretched.

"Hey, Steve," he put in, getting both their attention as he sauntered over. "Can I persuade you both to stay the night?"

Bucky sniffed. "After last night," he said, "I'm not leaving."

"Sure, we'll stay," Steve said simply, as though it wasn't a request that would almost definitely get him in trouble with Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips.

Tony eyed him for a moment, then turned to head up the stairs. "Good. Then I'd suggest one of you go back to your bunks for some pyjamas and toiletries after dinner, if you want them."


	11. [Steve POV]

He barely tasted the food Bucky kept piling on his plate, more interested in the conversation, which had pretty quickly turned to Tony's adventures as portrayed in his magazine, _Marvels: A Magazine of Men's Adventure_ , at his instigation. Dinner was nearly over, meantime, and Steve didn't want it to be. Getting to hear the stories behind what had been published, what he'd spent his meagre pocket money on before he'd become Captain America, was amazing. It was still hard to believe he was soulmated to someone he'd admired for so long, and thought entirely out of his reach for even longer. Bucky, for all that they'd known one another during those years, had never really shown an interest in what he'd considered 'pure fantasy and made up hooey.'

Now he was starting to change his mind. Steve was pretty sure of that.

"-- so naturally once Fin Fang Foom finally showed his scaley face," Tony was saying, "we were actually prepared to deal with the magical backlash, for once."

Jarvis snorted. "It went better than your showdown with Modok, that's for damned sure."

Pepper chuckled. "I think I'm glad I hadn't signed on with you yet at that point. Writing that one up would have pained me."

"Why's that?" Bucky wanted to know.

"You've read the story, right?" Pepper asked him, raising an eyebrow at him, and got a shake of Bucky's head. "Really. You should, sometime. It's surprisingly suspenseful writing. Virgil did a brilliant job with that one." She went silent briefly, and Tony, Rhodes and Jarvis took the moment to raise their glasses in a silent toast. Pepper waited for them to drain their glasses before she went on. "Well, the deadly riddle Tony was supposed to solve? It's entirely made up. Nothing like that ever happened."

Tony smiled, but the expression was tight. "Virgil always did have a flare for the dramatic. I miss having him around, even if I did usually end up nursing him through our expeditions."

There was definitely a story there. Steve decided not to ask. Bucky decided to plough right through the awkwardness, surer-footed around Tony's team than Steve was. "What happened to him? He quit?" Rhodey winced, and Bucky stopped in his verbal tracks. "He got killed, didn't he," Bucky said after a beat of silence, as Steve belatedly realised what their toast had meant. "Shit, I'm sorry. Really put my foot in it that time."

"You couldn't have known," Jarvis said gruffly. "We kept it quiet, for a number of reasons. Strucker killed him."

"One more thing for that bastard to answer for," Rhodey growled.

"He'll get what he deserves," Tony gritted out through clenched teeth, "if it's the last goddamn thing I do."

Steve decided it was time to step in. "Maybe," he suggested, "we should call it a night and sack out. No sense in wasting our aggression on each other. Save it for Strucker and Zemo. With a little luck they might even be at Peenemünde when we make our grand entrance."

Pepper looked viciously vindictive. "I hope you're right, Captain. I really do."

Bucky raised his own glass, albeit belatedly. "To Virgil." He drained it in one long pull, and stood. "Come on, Tony, show us where we're bunking. I'm going to go get our things from HQ and come back."

Rhodey caught Bucky's eyes. "Really, Barnes? You're going to give Mr. Stark and the captain both an excuse to get out of cleaning up then go haring off yourself?"

The commentary made Steve chuckle. "Go on, Buck, We'll handle this."

With a smug smirk and a mocking half-assed salute, Bucky was out of the dining room, and whistling as he walked. Steve turned to Tony. "Come on, Mr. Stark," he added, "let's get your pilot off our case so that we can make our escape and gossip about him."

Rhodey laughed as the rest of them stood and started leisurely collecting the plates and glasses strewn about the table. "Nice try, Rogers, but I know the two of you would rather gossip about Barnes."

Tony pretended to swoon, right into Steve's arms. "Oh no, we've been made, Captain."

It was pure showmanship, but Steve appreciated the chance to get his hands on Tony without arousing anyone's suspicions. Catching Tony, he smiled wryly. "Quick, into the kitchen," he suggested, "they'll never look there."

The comment drew a few more chuckles out of the room.

"You're nothing like the newsreels paint you," Pepper commented after the table had been cleared and the dishes piled in the sink. "Which, I suppose, we should have expected."

Steve shrugged and started the water running. "Propaganda is what it is for a reason. It serves an important purpose, where the US's involvement is concerned, and so do I. No matter how much it chafes sometimes."

"I should've known you'd feel that way about it," Jarvis said dryly.

The water had warmed enough, so Steve dumped in some soap and put in the plug resting next to the faucet.

Tony chuckled and hip-checked him out of the way, picking up a plate and scrubbing at it. "That's what I tried to tell you from the start, old bird," he put in. "No one could be as perfect as the news loves to paint him."

"Oh, I'm definitely not perfect," Steve laughed, allowing himself to be moved and picking up a dishtowel instead. "Just ask Bucky. He'll talk your ear off complaining about me. I've caught him at it more than once."

Tony handed over the plate as soon as it was clean and started on the next. Steve had the plate dry with a few swipes, then Pepper plucked it out of his hands and put it in a cupboard above the granite counter.

Jarvis leaned against the doorframe as they quickly cleaned up the mess in the sink. "I hate to break it to you, but the rest of your team does, too."

Somehow after that, they all fell silent, but it was comfortable. Steve didn't feel the need to fill the room with words, and neither did anyone else. It was almost a relief. When they dispersed, Tony appeared at Steve's side and steered him toward the stairs with a hand on his elbow. Steve went without protest.

Tony spoke up only once they were in his study. "Bucky was a mess when I came into the room," he said bluntly, "are you alright?"

Steve offered him a hand. "Better than he was. We don't know why, but it hit him a lot harder than me."

Taking it and sending a jolt of muted worry and lingering weariness through Steve, Tony nodded. "Good."

After a beat, Tony seemed to tilt almost unconsciously. He leaned in until his chest was pressed against Steve's, and tucked his nose into the curve of muscle between neck and shoulder. Steve twitched a little; it tickled, but also sent a wave of heat through him. "Tony?"

"Hmm?"

"I-- Bucky wants to do a bit more than just spend the night," he said, approaching the topic obliquely and hoping he didn't broadcast his nerves too much.

Tony chuckled. "I'd hoped he might. Do you?"

"The thought had crossed my mind," he admitted, relaxing a trifle. It was a ridiculous thing to worry about, but he couldn't help it. Tony and Bucky had gotten so closely entwined in one another so quickly, and he'd been forced by circumstances to stay aloof. He--

"Shhh, Steve, hey," Tony broke into his thoughts and soothed him. "You know Bucky would never do that to you. And I don't intend to, either."

"Knowing it is one thing," Steve admitted, wrapping Tony up in a tight possessive hug. "Believing it is another. It's hard to come to grips with the fact that this is really happening."

"But it is. And let me tell you, the chance to get my hands on you properly? That's not something I'm about to give up without a fight. You're a dream come true, and Bucky's just as ridiculously devastating." Tony trailed his lips up Steve's neck to breathe in his ear, "I want to do all of the dirtiest things with, to, and for you. Believe that, even if nothing else feels real."

Steve felt himself go half-hard at just the thought. It made him flush red from the base of his neck all the way to the tips of his ears and clear his throat awkwardly. Tony grinned at him, and Steve knew Tony had noticed the effect that sentence had had on him.

"There, that's more like it," Tony added, kissing his way down Steve's jaw, that time, and the want seemed to echo, ricocheting back and forth between them, somehow magnifying each time. "Just relax and we'll take care of you tonight. Bucky might want to get his hands on me, and I definitely want to have some fun with him. You're entirely on the mark about that. But don't go thinking that means I don't want you, too. I want to put my hands all over you. In you if you'll let me. I want to make you feel so good you melt into the sheets with it, and drive you so crazy you forget everything but my name."

The skin contact between them made sure Steve could feel the truth of that statement. He could also tell Tony was half-hard now, himself.

"Maybe," Steve managed to get out, "we should move this to your room?"

Tony chuckled at him, the sound dark and promising. "My my, Captain. You're feeling daring. What happens if we're seen going in there together, without my soulmate?"

"People don't have to be soulmates to have sex," Steve protested, and used his knuckle to tilt Tony's head up until he could kiss the man properly. It was their first, and he intended to enjoy it.

Sealing their lips firmly together, Steve rode out the wash of want and heat that rushed through him at the touch, even as he knew he matched it. Tony groaned loudly and took the opportunity to strop his entire body against Steve's. "Are you just one solid block of muscle?" He asked, sounding like he knew the answer but had to ask anyway.

Steve huffed at him and wrapped his arms around Tony's waist. "You love it," he retorted, knowing the answer and saying it anyway. He lifted his slighter soulmate up and pinned him to the wall farthest from the door with nothing but his strength. Tony bit at his lip, and Steve felt the pleased jolt that went through him. He leaned in close, breathing his next words into Tony's ear. "You want to have a go at me here? You want me to wreck you where any of your friends and teammates -- your family -- could walk in on us? You want me to touch and taste you and make you scream in a place that might as well be out in the open?"

"Fuck," Tony hissed and squirmed until Steve put him down, "where'd you learn to talk like that, Steve?"

"I'm soulmated to Bucky," he said, unable to keep the self-satisfied smirk from tugging at his lips as Tony hustled him into what Steve suspected was the nearest room that could be locked. "You'll find I'm full of surprises, Tony."

"No kidding." Tony pulled in a shuddering breath and started giving as good as he was getting. His hands dove for Steve's trousers without hesitation, and he caught Steve's eyes, daringly. "But you're forgetting something."

"What's that?" Steve couldn't help the way his hips jerked as Tony got a calloused hand around his cock.

"Bucky got a turn with you last night. Now it's my turn." Tony told him as he started working the handful of flesh in his hand.

Steve felt a shiver go down his spine at the thought, combined with the feeling of Tony's hand sliding over his skin. His grip on Tony's upper thighs tightened, and he knew Tony would likely have finger bruises come morning. For all that he probably should have, he couldn't find it in him to be sorry about that. How Tony had known about his tryst with Bucky was a mystery to Steve. He was pretty sure Bucky hadn't said a word about it, not even to Tony. "And if," he paused to swallow against the way his throat tried to close and choke his words off, "if you go through with your plan to wreck me, here and now, how do you propose to hide the evidence?"

Tony shrugged. "That's more your problem than mine," he quipped, a strong jolt of lust running through him and jumping to Steve.

Steve had to wince. It was an attractive thought, and he wanted that. Just... not right this instant. He was wearing his mess dress because of the debriefing, and that was a pain to clean at the best of times. He didn't want to think of the reactions he would get if he handed it off to be laundered with come stains on it. "I don't think so. If you try that, I'll find a way to haul you through the hallways naked and over my shoulder. Wouldn't be too difficult."

He shifted his grip and stepped away from the wall.

Unprepared for the move, Tony tilted backward with a startled yelp and let go of him to flail for a grip on something, his wings spreading and very nearly sweeping Steve's feet out from underneath him, then glared up at him. The long rust-red feathers of Tony's tail had ended up between Steve's knees, rasping quietly against the fabric of his uniform pants.

"That's fighting dirty," Tony grumbled up at him, petulant, and folded his wings against his back again, a brief expression of concentration flitting across his features.

Smirking at Tony, whose weight was now resting on his hips and neck, Steve shrugged and put one hand at the small of Tony's arched back, taking some of his weight. With his other hand, he started working Tony out of his clothes. "I got the impression that with you around fighting dirty was the only way to win," he said, trying for his most innocent tone.

Tony growled a few curses under his breath that Steve ignored. "Well?" Tony prodded at him after a moment, "you've got me at your mercy. What do you intend to do with me?"

Steve considered that for a moment. "If you want to actually do anything involved, it's not happening now. I'm not desecrating this uniform."

The statement got him a leer. "But it does wonders for your figure, darling, and I've always had a weakness for men in Ike jackets."

Tugging Tony up until they were plastered together from chest to hips, Steve did his best to kiss Tony breathless. His mated's lips were slightly chapped and he tasted like the wine he'd used to toast his former chronicler. Steve didn't mind either of those things. The wine might not have an effect on him, but Tony sure did. The caress was leaving him almost light-headed and dizzy.

Steve let his hands wander over Tony's back, tracing out long lines of strong wiry muscle, starting at Tony's waist and only stopping when he reached the base of those magnificent wings. They made Tony look a bit like Steve's idea of an avenging angel, or some kind of graceful bird of prey, and they were soft enough that he was convinced he could bury his hands in soft, warm rust-and-cream feathers all the way up to his wrists.

The thought was oddly appealing.

He decided to try it. Running his fingers along the lower edge of Tony's shoulder blade and then up into the feathers at the sensitive point where wings met skin, he dug his hands in until his fingernails scraped against tough skin and the shorter feathers protecting the flight feathers tickled at the base of his palm. Tony shuddered and groaned loudly into the kiss, writhing in Steve's grip. The sharp jolt of pleasure that went through both of them was enough to convince Steve that Tony was enjoying himself.

Using his fingernails to scratch ever so gently, like he would have had it been Tony's scalp, he experimented, testing Tony's reactions to different kinds of touches there. Most got Tony to rut against him, rubbing his hips against Steve's in a mix of intoxicating hitches of pleasure and near-painful friction of cloth. When he tugged lightly at the feathers, Tony flung his head back and made a choked sound. The kiss broke, Tony gasped for air, and they both shuddered in reaction to the feelings driving them higher and higher. "Shit, Steve. Breathing. Breathing is a thing we mere mortals have to do. And, what? Do you have a thing for feathers?"

"I have a thing for what makes you feel good," Steve answered, entirely confident in his reply, for all that he hadn't really given the question any thought until that moment. The way their bond made the pleasure echo back and forth between them was more than enough reward for Steve to accept what Tony enjoyed and enjoy it himself.

"You're going to be the death of me," Tony muttered, but he was smiling.


	12. [Bucky POV]

Bucky was damned relieved that he hadn't run into any of the Howlies during the short few minutes he was in their converted house barracks. He'd all but run back to the base, thanking every god he didn't believe in and then some that it wasn't farther than a mile and a half, hastily grabbed the few things he thought he and Steve might need for the night, and stuffed everything into a duffel.

He'd looped the strap of the bag over his head, settled it comfortably at the small of his back, then borrowed Steve's motorcycle and helmet for the trip back to Kensington, disinclined to spend another ten to fifteen minutes on foot. Steve wouldn't mind. He was possessive of the bike, but Bucky was allowed to drive it on occasion and this was for a good cause.

It made the trip a lot shorter, he thought to himself with a grin. The others were probably just finishing with the dishes, and he had no doubt that afterwards things would get more interesting. Pepper had hinted several times that she was simply going to head up to bed once the chores were done. So had Jarvis. No doubt they were (very correctly) assuming that he and Tony would be enjoying themselves in bed.

About three minutes after starting the bike, he was shutting it back off again, parking it just below the front entrance of Tony's house. Bucky sauntered up to the door and casually let himself in. Everyone present knew he would be coming back, and no one had a reason to bar him from entering. He locked the door behind him, though, taking advantage of the key waiting in the lock.

As he turned it, throwing the deadbolt, Bucky felt a shudder of want and lust go through him and bit his lip as he felt his body react.

That hadn't come from him.

The realisation very nearly made him draw his own blood, and he had to adjust himself in his pants before he turned away from the door, lest he embarrass himself should he run into anyone on his way through the house. The pictures his mind was suddenly painting -- Steve buried deep in Tony, Tony down on his knees and pleasuring Steve, the pair of them kissing and teasing one another as they waited for him -- got him moving. Walking, climbing the stairs, was an exercise in self-control. It took him rather longer than he'd wanted it to, but he'd hurried as much as he'd dared. Any more and he'd have chafed something sensitive or tripped and fallen on the stairs.

As he passed Tony's study a quiet groan -- in Steve's voice -- stopped him in his tracks. He'd assumed they'd be in the bed. This was somehow even hotter.

He let himself quietly into the room, and was treated to the sight of his two soulmates wrapped around one another and in an enthusiastic lip-lock.

"You know," he said, and cleared his throat, "you're playing the odds a bit, here."

The pair of them jumped and sprang apart as though they were guilty of something. Tony glared at him.

Steve laughed a bit ruefully. "Well, there were fairly good odds it'd be you that found us and not one of the others," he defended their decision calmly.

"Alright, but I want a bed," Bucky replied firmly. "Tony?"

Straightening his rumpled clothes out of what Bucky suspected was habit, Tony pulled reluctantly away from Steve. "Fine, fine, it's not far."

"Good," Bucky shot back, "my pants keep trying to strangle my dick."

That got Steve to raise an eyebrow at him. "Classy," he drawled.

Tony simply leered at him, eyeing the bulge in his pants and licking his lips, then crossed the room and wrapped an arm around Bucky's waist, then turned to steer him back out into the hallway. "Classy or not, Steve, you can't argue with effectiveness. Come on."

Following Tony without arguing, hell, eagerly, Bucky soon found himself being ushered through a door and into a space that distinctly resembled Tony's bunk aboard the airship. His mated had pretty obviously furnished them both himself and in the same style. Probably at the same time. The thought made Bucky smile fondly. Tony might be willing to rough it, but he also clearly enjoyed his comforts, and had created himself a home away from home aboard his airship.

Tony broke him out of his musings with a kiss as Steve followed them in and locked the door behind them. Bucky wrapped his arms around his mated, pleased with the move, and set about learning what Tony liked, giving voice to the little sounds of pleasure he could feel building at the back of his throat. Tony seemed to like them, chasing after them with focused intent and sending shudders of pleasure through them both in the process. He tried to lick them right out of Bucky's mouth and then brought his hands up to tangle in Bucky's hair.

That got him an outright groan, and Bucky could feel the satisfied smirk Tony couldn't hold back.

And then Steve was plastered against him, skin heated against Bucky's clothes, the evidence of his own enjoyment and want pressed against Bucky's ass. "Tony," Steve prompted, "hey, how are we doing this?"

"Aren't you the tactician?" Tony responded lazily, "We've got the rest of our lives to try out all of the combinations and permutations. Just pick one for now."

"He's got a point, Steve," Bucky put in. "You got supplies here, Tony?"

"Nothing elaborate," Tony told him, then kissed him again before trailing his lips down Bucky's jaw to the point of his chin and farther to the base of his throat before he added, "but I have some rubbers and slick."

"Good enough," Steve decided, and used his grip on Bucky's hips to maneuver them towards the bed. "Bucky? On your back. Tony, hands and knees, or those wings of yours will end up getting in the way constantly. We'll experiment with other positions another day."

"And you?" Tony asked him, "Gonna just stand there and watch?"

Bucky pulled back a few inches and ran his hands down Tony's chest and belly until he could toy with the button at the front of Tony's pants. "So what if he does? I've been wanting to get my hands on you properly since we got you back aboard your blimp."

"A fair point," Tony conceded, and reached down to bat Bucky's hands away so that he could undo his suspenders and drop his trousers to the floor where they pooled around his ankles. Tony simply slid his underwear down over his hips as well, then kicked the pile of fabric off to one side of the room, where no one would trip over it.

Unable to resist the need to get his hands on Tony, Bucky reached for him, running his palms over whatever bared skin he could reach, and then some. He got his hands up under Tony's shirttails and simply let them wander up farther and farther until the fabric bunched up enough to block him. The sharp want and warm fondness coming from his mated were more than enough to make him want to linger and draw everything about this tryst out as much as he could stand. As much as they both could stand.

Tony didn't say a word. Instead, he simply started undoing the buttons of his shirt. Steve was the one to curse under his breath and step back up to Bucky so that he could start stripping Bucky's clothes off. The way his hands brushed against Bucky's skin in the process was enough to get Bucky squirming. Having both of his soulmates touching him was making their combined lust take on new complexities and depth. The feeling reminded him of the eddies and swirls he'd expect to see in a deep dark river, flowing past a boulder. Chaotic yet constant, and never the same twice. He was sure their relationship would be much the same in tenor.

His pants and underwear dropped to the floor, leaving him bare from the waist down and making him shiver, a wave of goosebumps going over his skin at the sudden touch of the room's cool air. Tony finished with his shirt a second later, and stripped it off without any real ceremony to toss it in the vague direction of the chair that stood by his dresser.

"That was a good idea, Steve. I've been wanting to see what those uniforms of his have been hiding from me." Tony approved of the touches, pushing into them, closer to Bucky, until he was pressed against bare skin in one long line of heat all the way from Bucky's chest to his waist.

Bucky couldn't stop his arms from going around Tony. His hands landed on Tony's ass, fingers splayed over warm skin and muscle and brushing against the barbs of Tony's tail feathers. He squeezed the flesh in his hands, enjoying the feel of his soulmate's wiry strength, then forced his hands open in an act that took most of his remaining willpower and pulled away to let himself fall backwards onto the mattress. "C'mere, Tony."

Tony prowled closer, seeming to loom over him with the way his wings unconsciously spread. He looked like he was about to pounce in the best kind of way, and Bucky _wanted_ that. Suddenly needed it almost more than his next breath. "C'mere," he said again, arranging himself comfortably among the blankets and pillows, and holding a hand out to Tony invitingly.

"With pleasure," Tony growled at him, settling on his knees over him, the mattress denting under his weight. "Steve, supplies are in the nightstand, if you'd be so kind."

The request jolted Steve out of what had apparently been a near trance, and he nodded, pulling in a hitching breath. "You two will be the death of me," he muttered, not sounding upset in the least.

Bucky eyed his oldest friend. Steve was still dressed for some reason. "Hand Tony those supplies, then get naked," he suggested. "Watch us, and touch yourself. Or let us touch you."

Tony made a choked but very interested noise. "Both of those sound like fun. Yes."

Bucky smirked up at him. "You," he said to Tony, taking charge since Steve seemed to have used up his initiative in picking the position, "are going to show me what you like."

"This position isn't the best for what I like," Tony informed him, "but I'll manage. Penetration a thing you like? Or would you rather just have my hands on you?"

"Never tried that. But why not," Bucky decided. "Gonna tell me what's involved?"

Tony shrugged. "It's not that sexy sounding, but it feels nice." He paused to accept the slick from Steve and hold it up where Bucky could see it. "It means I'm gonna coat my fingers in this and put them inside you, open you up. If you don't like it, no harm, no foul -- but tell me, hm? It stings a bit at first."

Steve settled on the mattress beside them, and ran his hands over Tony's skin, his broad palms sliding slowly over the planes of muscle defining his lower back and around the base of his wings. Tony pushed into the touch with a sound like a purr, and Bucky had to bite at his lip.

After a moment, the touches to his skin picked up again as Tony refocused on what he was doing. Strong calloused hands landed on the outside of his legs at the knee, then slid up, until they were tracing out the crease between hip and thigh. The want and heat he could feel bouncing back and forth between them was nice, was enough to drive him that little bit higher, but it was simply _not enough_.

"All you're doing is teasing," Bucky grumbled, reaching up to twine one hand in Tony's hair and bury the other in the soft underfeathers of one wing. "Either do it, or just put your hands on me," he demanded.

Laughing at him, Tony complied. He coated the fingers of one hand in slick, and replied, "Impatient much, Barnes? And here I thought you'd be one to take your time and enjoy."

"There's a time," Bucky paused because his breath hitched when Tony's slippery fingers slid down between his legs, "and a place, Stark."

It was weird and different and new, but Tony was enjoying himself to the hilt, and Steve was, too, judging by the slightly stunned look on his face. Still slightly unsure, but not nearly enough to tap out, Bucky tried to force some of the tension out of his shoulders. When Tony's fingers finally teased at his hole, Bucky flinched, a full body twitch. His hands tightened in Tony's hair and feathers.

Tony paused, not moving until Bucky settled again, but the feelings resonating between them only dimmed a little. "Okay?"

Steve leaned against Tony, and gently disentangled Bucky's hand from Tony's hair, twining their fingers together instead, then ducked his head down, offering a kiss. Bucky accepted happily, leaning up on his elbow to make the pose a little easier for Steve.

While he was distracted by that, Tony made his move, starting to carefully work him open. Bucky consciously forced himself to focus more on the waves of heat that Steve was sending shuddering through him.

"Just like that," Tony encouraged him, making Steve chuckle into the kiss.

Steve's free hand left Tony to trail down Bucky's chest and belly until his fingertips were teasing at the head of Bucky's cock. The touch made his hips jerk without his conscious decision and his hand tighten convulsively around Steve's. "Steve," he gritted out, forcing himself to ignore the lingering strangeness and vague pressure of Tony's finger inside him, "more!"

Chuckling at him, Steve gave him what he wanted, though he kept teasing. The fingertips teasing at the head of his cock trailed lightly down along its length, lingering where they pleased and sending shocks of sensation up his spine that made his hips thrust and his skin tingle. The shivery feelings of want and need that had been resonating between them, underscoring their movements, suddenly jumped back into the foreground. The wave of warmth that went through him made Bucky whine high in his throat, shameless, wordlessly demanding more. The hand he had buried in Tony's feathers clenched, and he tugged at them as he would have at Tony's hair. The move got him a low groan and a full body wave of goosebumps.

But, more importantly, both his soulmates responded to his demand. Steve's touches went hungrier, more demanding, and Tony added some more lubricant and a second finger. It was kind of maddening, really. Bucky gave himself over to the sensations driving him, letting himself push into the touches and chase after them.

"Still feeling good?" Tony asked him, a smug undertone to the words.

Bucky felt Steve's amusement as he replied, forcing himself to scrape together the words. "Good ain't the word I'd have picked, Tony. Gonna give me what I asked for or tease some more?"

"Oh, I'll show you a tease," Tony shot back. "Next time, though."

Tony moved the fingers inside him with purpose, then, and the searing pleasure that zinged up his spine had Bucky crying out without really meaning to. After a moment, he fell back against the bed, fighting for air. "Holy--" he gasped out between breaths, hearing the slightly strangled, hoarse tone his own words had, "Tony!"

Steve, watching him intently, leaned his shoulder against Tony's. "That feels like fun," he commented, sounding far calmer than Bucky felt was strictly appropriate.

"You can have the next go," Tony offered casually, and Bucky decided that he needed to step in, lest they forget about him.

Using the hand still caught in Steve's as leverage, he leaned up and caught Steve's lips in a kiss that sent them both flying high and wide in an upward spiral of sensation and shared want. Tony watched them for a moment without moving, then carefully added another finger and starting to press at Bucky's muscles, encouraging them to relax. It felt kind of bizarre and definitely did sting a little as Tony had warned, but the emotions flooding the three of them eclipsed that entirely.

Almost before he realised what was happening, Tony was pulling away. Bucky reflexively tightened his grip on his mated, not wanting to be separated even that much.

"Shh," Tony soothed him. "I need to get to the rest of my supplies."

Marveling at the fact that Tony could still somehow speak in full sentences, where he was reduced to nonverbal cues, Bucky relented. He did want more. He wanted to know what it was like to have more than just Tony's fingers in him. To be as intimately intertwined with his soulmate as it was possible to be. Wanted that with Steve, as well. Hell, he wanted to try it out the other way around too, to bury himself to the hilt inside Tony and make Tony feel the way he did right now. Wanted to send Tony spiraling so high he thought he might dissolve into light, might come at the slightest touch. Wanted to do that for Steve, make his captain moan and scream under him. Wanted to see Steve make Tony come so hard he saw stars.

Then, before his imagination could throw more incendiary grenades at him and set him aflame like a forest of so much dry tinder, Tony was back, rubber in place and pressing against him. Bucky's back arched and he keened high in his throat at the feeling. The strange fullness, the stretch, the heaviness, was even more foreign than Tony's fingers had been. But it was also more satisfying in a way that they never could be. Having Tony nose-to-nose with him, looking like he was only just holding onto his composure with nothing more than his fingernails and raw grit... Bucky tugged at the feathers in his hand again.

"Move," he managed to demand.

Steve took the opportunity to bring their still-joined hands down and wrap their linked fingers around his cock, while Tony nodded, words apparently escaping him, and started carefully pulling back.

They found their stride together after the first few tentative thrusts, but none of them had it in them to last long. After the intensity of the build-up, the three of them were all on-edge and the act itself was over quickly. As they lay on the bed, sweaty, limbs tangled together, and tried their best to breathe, Bucky smiled dopily up at the ceiling. "That was fun. When's round two?"


	13. [Tony POV]

Waking up pleasantly sore and satisfied was something that hadn't happened to him in a long time, Tony reflected as he peeled his eyes open and stretched. He was still sprawled half on Steve's chest, and Bucky was plastered against his back. Both his soulmates -- and now his lovers, what a pleasant thought -- stirred the moment he moved.

"Mmm, mornin'," Bucky mumbled, nuzzling at the skin behind his ear with a supremely content sensation of lazy enjoyment.

Tony couldn't help the sappy smile that tugged at his lips. He turned just enough to reply over his shoulder. "Still night. Pretty sure it's not even sunrise yet."

Steve huffed at him and reached out to tilt his head up so that he could pull Tony into a kiss. "Doesn't matter," he said after they separated again. "Morning is after you wake up."

Tony could only roll his eyes at the man.

After a brief comfortable silence, Bucky carefully pushed himself up into a sitting position, moving slowly to avoid getting himself tangled in any of Tony's feathers. "I want some coffee."

Steve made an amused sound, but didn't follow, instead choosing to run his palms up Tony's back until his hands slipped smoothly between long flight feathers. It rasped and tickled, a feeling like running his hand against the grain over a velvet upholstered chair, and it made Tony squirm. After a moment that felt like it stretched, Steve was using his short fingernails to tease at the point where his feathers met his skin. The feeling made his eyes close, and he felt himself go boneless.

Bucky chuckled. "I think you found his off switch, Steve."

Tony considered protesting, but Steve was smiling and he felt too good to bother. Pushing into the touch, he let his feathers rouse a bit and his wings mantle, giving Steve better access.

Time blurred into meaninglessness, then. Steve's hands were on him, and they felt wonderful. Warm, strong, and gentle. The emotions he felt were good too, and Tony allowed himself to glut himself on them. He had never had this before, but by God, he intended to enjoy it. Having not one but two soulmates, both good in bed -- and both warm, caring people to boot -- was an unheard of luxury for him. He'd denied himself many things over the years, but he intended to hold onto this with both hands, and possibly his feet, too, if he could just work out how.

The three of them were all on the front lines of the fighting, and that was likely to end in disaster one way or another. He knew that, and he was sure Steve and Bucky did too. Until the damned war was over, Tony knew he'd be waiting for something to go wrong, for one of them -- or both of them -- to go out on a mission and just... not come back. Knew that they would both feel the same.

"Tony?" Steve broke into his thoughts. "What's wrong?"

He gave Steve a crooked smile. "Trying not to worry about the future."

"Doesn't seem to be working too well." Steve dropped a kiss on his forehead. "You need some breakfast, and so do I."

Tucking his wings firmly against his back again after Steve had extracted his fingers and smoothed the feathers he'd disturbed down again, Tony grumbled and got to his feet. "I need to shave. Get dressed and go on downstairs."

Looking like he wanted to protest, Steve reached for the uniform he'd simply tossed over Tony's chair last night.

"Rather stay here," he admitted, as he pulled the pants on and disappeared into Tony's bathroom to splash some water on his face and tame his hair.

"Me too," Tony grabbed for the first pair of trousers and undershirt that came to hand and followed Steve into the bathroom as he buttoned up his fly. He left the suspenders loose to dangle at his knees, and stepped up behind Steve and wrap his arms around Steve's waist. He hooked his chin over Steve's shoulder, too. It took two attempts. Steve was too damned tall. Taller than Tony'd realised until just now. He had to go up on his toes to make the pose work, and felt his wings unconsciously flare for balance.

In the mirror, Tony saw Steve's eyes close, and then his hands, fingers linked together over Steve's belly, were covered by one of Steve's. Pinned in place with just enough pressure that it was clear Steve wanted them to stay right where they were, and not an ounce more.

They stood like that for a while, only pulling away from one another when they heard a set of footsteps enter the adjoining bedroom. Tony felt his shoulders go tense. If that was Pepper -- doubtful, since he hadn't heard the distinctive clicking of her heels -- or Jarvis, they'd potentially be in a world of trouble. At the very least, they'd get read the riot act for keeping their relationship quiet.

"Tony?" Bucky's voice rang out, and he relaxed again.

"Yeah?" he answered, feeling torn between staying with Steve or touching Bucky, and reluctantly stepping back out into the bedroom. Bucky looked just as dapper now as he had yesterday, all done up in his uniform, and Tony wanted nothing more in that moment than to peel it back off him.

Bucky smirked at him, for all the world like he knew exactly what Tony was thinking. "Mr. Jarvis wants to know how you intend to handle your preparations for our mission, but it can wait until after you're dressed and fit for polite company."

Biting back a sigh, Tony nodded. His watch read 0812. That left them about eight hours to gather their supplies and another two to load everything onto the airship. About two and a half hours after that, they'd be making landfall in Germany with the intent to loot and destroy. There was a lot to do. "I need to clean up. Give me fifteen minutes. And take Steve with you. He's distracting."

Stepping out of the bathroom to join them, looking more or less pristine again, Steve smirked at him. "Not my fault you're easily distracted," he teased, his fondness clear for all to hear. "Get yourself ready, Tony. I'm heading down to grab a bite to eat. Afterwards, Buck and I have to head back to base and deal with equipping our own team."

Before Tony could come up with a coherent reply, Steve was ducking out of the room, and Bucky was prodding him back into the bathroom. "I know it'd be a lot nicer to stay in bed together all day, really cement things," Bucky said, "but we've gotta get a move on."

Making a face at him in the mirror, Tony acknowledged the truth of that. "Doesn't mean I have to like it," he muttered mulishly as he pulled his shaving kit out.

The pair of them stood in silence.

Bucky said nothing but ran his hands almost longingly over the lines of Tony's back and shoulders as Tony set to work neatening his facial hair. Thankfully, it was fairly quick work. The shuddering, almost ticklish feelings of protectiveness, resignation, and wistfulness coming from Bucky made him want to wrap up his soulmate in his arms and his new feathers, bundling him up away from the world in a bubble of reality that was theirs alone, warm, safe and snug.

A shiver ran through him at the thought, and he cleaned the lingering bits of shaving cream off his face, then put his kit away again. The moment he was done with that, Bucky used his grip on Tony's shoulders to turn him so that they were face-to-face and haul him in for a kiss that somehow straddled the line between wanting and longing. It wasn't fierce or violent, for all that the feelings that came with it were, and the contrast was starting to get Tony riled up.

When they pulled apart, well, when Bucky broke the kiss and pulled back, Tony didn't bother to hide the plaintive noise rising at the back of his throat. "Tease."

"Something for you to look forward to, later," Bucky shot back, then went deadly serious. "We'll see you in a few hours. Get yourself ready. This ain't gonna be a milk run, Tony. Peenemünde's well-defended, and for good reason."

"We just found each other," Tony replied in kind. "Don't you dare split us up before we've even had sex together a second time."

With a mocking salute, Bucky left the room, and Tony heard his footfalls grow quieter as he descended the stairs to the ground floor of the house. He hauled the rest of his clothes on, and got to the dining room in time to convince Bucky to kiss him goodbye again, and then the pair of them were gone.

Jarvis broke him out of his thoughts. "Well, don't just stand there like a lovesick fool," he grumbled, tone rough but betraying his fondness, "we've got work to do."

Pepper sniffed at them. "I'm more or less packed, as far as civilian things go. What do we have on hand for the more military aspect of things, Mr. Jarvis?"

Suitably distracted, Jarvis left Tony to eat in peace while he outfitted Pepper properly. It didn't take him long to fuel up and make his way down to his workshop with a plate of snacks in his hand. He had redesigned his armour with Bucky's input yesterday, but now he had to build the new version from the ground up, using whatever spare parts he had lying around and improvising the rest.

Losing himself in the haze of building, of doing things with his hands and his tools, Tony happily spent the morning assembling parts, wiring, welding, and testing. He only had one shot at this, and he had to get it right. Bucky was entirely on the mark in his assessment of the German defenses. They wouldn't be facing off against an easy opponent, this time around. The element of surprise was on their side, and they'd have a lovely distraction to take advantage of, but even so, they couldn't afford to get careless in the attack.

Nor in their preparations either. If anything, their preparations were more important than actually getting there. Storming the facility would be difficult if they were well armed and armoured, but nearly impossible if they weren't.

Putting the finishing touches on the leg armour and boots that would go over his boots and clothes, Tony stood with a quiet groan and stretched, hearing his spine pop and crackle as it settled back into its accustomed place after being hunched over for hours on end.

"Ready for a trial run?" Jarvis asked him.

Tony jumped. He hadn't realised Jarvis was even in the room. "Well," he replied, recovering smoothly, "partially. The leg armour's just about complete. Hip plates are going to be trouble, though."

"Try it on, then," his old friend commanded. "We don't have much time to get this done."

Accepting the mother henning for the gesture of affection it was meant to mask, Tony shrugged. "Fit shouldn't be a problem. Its inner dimensions are identical to the last set."

"But you've totally overhauled the outside," Jarvis reminded him impatiently.

Giving in, Tony undid the mechanical catches by hand -- they'd be run by hydraulics the moment the armour was fully assembled -- then stepped into the pair of boots, greaves and cuissots. Jarvis had to help him close them up, but testing the joints for range of motion went well, luckily for his sanity. Having to redo all of that work would have been the worst kind of frustration, at this point.

"Good solid work," Jarvis approved, as he worked the catches back open. "What's next?"

"The airship ship shape?" Tony asked rather than answering, reminded of the rest of the necessary preparations.

"Rhodes and Pepper are dealing with that. We need to get you suited up properly. That needs your attention most," Jarvis told him sternly. "And you really ought to be charging up that repulsor pump of yours while you can."

"I'll do that on the airship." Tony waved away the suggestion as he stepped out of the partially assembled armour again. "Plans are on the drafting table. You want to speed things up, you can assemble the gauntlets and vambraces. The tassets, backplate and cuirass will take more adjustments. I'll handle those."

He and Jarvis worked in near silence for another hour and a half or so, before Jarvis insisted they break for a meal. Since it was just the two of them still at the residence -- Pepper and Rhodey were still at the airfield -- lunch was simple. Jarvis made up a couple of sandwiches, and Tony put on a pot of coffee.

With the smell of brewing joe teasing at him, Tony let his mind wander back over what he still needed to get through before he could call the armour ready for flight testing. He was about halfway through the list of tasks he'd set himself when Jarvis had joined him. The tassets, which protected his hips and groin, were more or less adjusted now. He could try them on for size, and then check that off his list if there were no obvious issues. He'd have to settle for field testing this iteration of the armour rather than trying to work out the first round of kinks in his workshop.

"What are you worrying over?" Jarvis yanked him back into the present. "You know we're doing everything to prepare, and we'll keep an eye on your mate once we have our boots on the ground."

Tony winced. "Sure, but even the best prepared troop can be ambushed."

Jarvis sniffed, offended. "The Jerries will throw everything they've got at us, that's guaranteed, old bird. But they can't match the combined resources of Captain America, Iron Man, and War Machine."

"It's not the Germans that worry me," Tony conceded. "That artifact they supposedly have on site, though? That could be devastating, depending on what it is and if they know how to use it."

Jarvis smiled nastily. "We'll just have to make sure we get to it first, then."

"I'm fairly sure that was the plan anyway," Tony pointed out.

Jarvis' hand landed on his shoulder, and turned him to face the brewing pot of coffee just as it finished brewing. "Pour us some joe," he suggested, and we'll take our sandwiches back downstairs. Tell me what you still need to do. The gauntlets and vambraces are done. You can test those too, and the plastrons won't take long, if you've more or less got the cuirass handled."

Pouring the coffee gave Tony a chance to catch up with the change of topic. He didn't mind it, considering it was more productive than their other line of conversation. "The cuirass needed fewer adjustments than I thought it would, so you can add it to the list of nearly finished pieces. The back plates will be difficult. I'm going to have to weld them together out of chopped up pieces scavenged from the old iteration of the armour. It'll be weaker than a single piece, but I can't get it to go around my wings, otherwise."

Jarvis scowled. "I don't like the sound of that. You'll watch your damned back out there, you hear me?"

The appropriateness of the pun made Tony smile wryly. "I thought that was what teammates were for?"

"We can't be everywhere," Jarvis admonished him, even as he cracked a small smile of his own.

The coffee and sandwiches disappeared in short order after that, and so did the rest of the afternoon. What felt like five minutes later, Tony was staring down at the finished back plates and then Jarvis was prodding him into trying on the full armour so he could test out his range of motion on the ground. Airborne tests would be happening in about eight hours.

"How does it feel?" Jarvis prompted him, once he was fully armoured up.

Tony had to think about it. "Weird. Not claustrophobic, but too small. But," he went down on one knee, then stood and swept an arm and a wing out in a broad gesture, "I can move freely."

"Good, then we can spend the last hour or so we have on the weaponry," came Jarvis' reply.

His old friend wanted the guns there to protect him. Tony wanted them there to protect his soulmates. Not quite the same motivation, but close enough for government work. "Let's do it."

Once they had those installed and tested, they could make their way out to the airfield, and Tony could check on the airship and its armaments. It didn't carry much besides a few light machine guns, but even those could make the difference between life and death. Tony carefully bit back his impatience as they worked their way down his usual list of armaments.

All of them were lighter than usual, in deference to the new lightweight approach he'd taken to the armour itself. It simply couldn't handle the recoil of the higher calibre guns the same way anymore, meaning they had to be mounted differently or of a smaller bore so as not to knock him on his ass or out of the sky.

The flamethrowers mounted to his underarms and the miniature Gatling guns would become his primary weapons, this time around. He would have to hold back on his use of the grenade launcher or the armour piercing rounds.

"There, test it," Jarvis suggested, holding out a gauntlet with a full set of weaponry mounted and loaded, "I think we've got it now."

Tony shook off his thoughts and tightened down the last few bolts on the gauntlet he'd been working on. "This one's ready too. Help me into them. Soon as we're done here, we're heading out to the airfield to join Pepper and Jim."

"Give me your left hand, then," Jarvis replied.

It made no sense, but knowing his old friend was as itchy to get going as he was calmed Tony a little. "Button me up."


	14. [Steve POV]

Standing beside Bucky, letting their fingers brush occasionally and their shoulders bump as the waves tilted the deck under their feet, Steve let his mind wander back over the day. They were positioned near the bow of their small transport ship as it cut its way through the waves toward German soil alongside eleven others, accompanied by a pair of cruisers and a destroyer, where they could look out over the dark waves and feel the sea air in their faces.

It was taking a lot more self-control to get through the day without touching Bucky than it ever had before. That was something he hadn't expected. Being away from Tony as they were, they had no idea how he was feeling, but Steve could tell Bucky was not much better off than he was. His mated's hands would occasionally clench and flex like he was wishing for something -- or someone -- to hold.

Steve could relate. He hadn't wanted to leave Tony's bedroom. Not even for a mission this important. He'd wanted to bury himself in blankets with his two soulmates and ignore the world for at least a week. Instead, he'd gritted his teeth and taken those stairs down to the ground floor. Bucky, as always, had followed his lead, albeit with visible reluctance. Mr. Jarvis and Pepper had laughed at Bucky's grumpy expression and ribbed him gently about it. The sight had made Steve ache, bone deep, and he'd very nearly blurted out the truth of their relationship on the spot. Bucky had caught his eyes, though, for all the world like he could read Steve's mind, and stared him into silence.

They'd finished their meal quickly after that, and Steve had chosen to wait outside the front door, astride his motorcycle, rather than watch Tony say goodbye to Bucky. He'd just known that either that temptation or the vague pain that went with it would break down his carefully shored up defenses. Keeping it quiet that he had one soulmate had been difficult. Keeping it quiet that he had _two_ might break even his stubborn will.

He'd have to talk it over with them, and soon.

Steve shook his head to clear it. He needed to focus. They'd made it back to HQ without running into any problems, and that had meant getting down to work. They'd had a mission to organise, a team to marshal, gear to requisition, and probably at least one meeting to attend. The rest of the Howlies had been present to get the briefing about Peenemünde from the brass, and had probably started preparing on their own initiative, but there were guaranteed to be things missing from their stockpile. He and Bucky were the only ones with the authority to requisition certain items, such as the explosives Dernier preferred.

Steve had thrown himself into the logistics of getting his commandos equipped in an attempt to distract himself from his near instinctual need to touch his soulmates and to his relief it had more or less worked.

As the working day drew to a close and the Brits on base vanished to take their tea, Steve had finally been able to declare them ready to leave and round up his team. All of them loaded down with their supplies, he'd lead them out of their makeshift barracks.

They'd moved in silence for a minute or so, before Monty had spoken up. "You holding up alright, Sarge?"

Bucky had dredged up a pale half-smile. "More or less," he'd answered. "Be better once I've got my mate next'a me again."

Gabe had chuckled. "Less than a week, and you're treating him like a teddy bear."

"Lay off, Jones," Bucky shot back. "You got no idea what it's like."

"Just deal with it, before it gets any of us killed," Dumdum had suggested.

Steve had wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose, even as he'd put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. The Howlies were a team that cared about their leaders, but sometimes they only added fuel to the fire. "Alright," he stepped in, "enough. All of you know that's not something Bucky can control. And besides. Mr. Stark and his team will be in the field with us. This won't be for long."

That had gotten Dernier to shrug and put in, "D'accord. Il et ton problème, alors."

The discussion had thankfully ended there because they'd marched through the HQ gates and were immediately hustled onto a waiting troop transport that took them to the port. Steve had alternated between watching the scenery slide by outside the transport and subtly finding ways to touch Bucky, who had been visibly on edge ever since the team had pointed out that Tony wasn't with them. They'd meant well, but all they'd succeeded in doing was reminding Bucky of the thing he was trying his damnedest to ignore.

Glancing over at his mated and oldest friend, Steve could tell he was still worrying at the empty spot at his side. Like prodding at a sore tooth, it was an act that stung but was nearly impossible to resist. Bucky kept tightly gripping the ship's railing, forcing himself to let go, glancing up at the airship that hung nearly invisibly in the sky above and behind the convoy, then gripping the railing again, and repeating the process from the top. It felt like watching a broken record doomed to repeat itself unto eternity.

Worse, Steve knew Bucky saw the same qualities in himself that Steve was musing over and hated that he was showing his agitation so clearly. He himself felt much the same, but long practice let him bite back the urge to fidget. Trying to tell Bucky that wouldn't help, though.

Steve took a deep breath. "Not much longer," he said quietly, ready to let the words go lost in the rushing sound of the sea hitting the transport ship if Bucky didn't feel like replying.

"I'm countin' the minutes," Bucky replied after a pause, not bothering to raise his voice. "You're lucky this isn't hitting you as hard. Fightin' your own heart and mind is one of the hardest things to do, and win."

The comment pulled a pained sound out of Steve. "You don't gotta remind me," he muttered under his breath, replying in kind.

Bucky winced, and put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "I know."

As long as there were clothes between them, the emotional jolts that came with touch were muted at best. It was really only because he knew to look for them that Steve felt them at all. Not that he needed to, in this case. He really didn't need to pick up Bucky's nerves. They'd spread to the rest of the team from him.

Steve took another steadying breath, and patted Bucky's hand before turning his attention to the faint looming outline of the shore. "We're coming up on out insertion point in under half an hour," he said, turning the conversation to more productive topics. "The lights of the base are just visible from here if you look close."

Bucky turned to look, too, with an air of having done it before, then paused. "Huh."

"What? What is it?" Steve prompted him and prepared himself to let Bucky consider his answer if needed.

It took about a minute for Bucky to reply. "Might be nothing," he said slowly, "but it might not. I can't tell from here. Germans might have patrols moving through the base that weren't in the intel."

Steve swore. "Damn it. We'll have to keep an eye out for them when we make our move."

There was a metallic thump from behind them, making them jump. Steve very nearly launched himself at the source of the noise, only able to take in a large shadowy shape.

"Whoa, whoa," a familiar distorted voice sounded, and Steve belatedly recognised the Iron Man armour. "It's me. Friendly."

In its newly modified form, it made Tony look like an avenging angel dressed to resemble a medieval knight. His wings and tail were bare, save for a bit of protection for the bone and muscle. His body armour shone in the low light of the moon. The tiny plates and scales in the joints of the armour reminded Steve of chain mail. The comparison logically led to the thought that Tony was missing his surcoat.

The idea almost made Steve laugh. He bit back on the urge knowing it would make things awkward. He'd have to share that later when they weren't surrounded by prying ears and spying eyes. Or perhaps sketch it. Bucky would appreciate it, and Steve suspected Tony would, too. Something about the design of the armour made Steve think of the old Arthurian legends, but he couldn't decide whether Tony was modelling himself after Arthur or Lancelot. Either would fit, really.

"Iron Man," he managed to say, his voice reasonably level. "I thought you knew better than to surprise us. A stealth landing like that is likely to get you in trouble."

Tony brushed that concern away, as though it were nothing. "The armour could have handled it, But your point's well taken." He rubbed at the back of his armoured neck, metal screeching thinly against metal, telegraphing mild embarrassment, before he went on. "I wanted to test something, and there wouldn't have been time otherwise. Not like I can just do that midway through an assault on a German research base."

That was a valid point. Steve sighed. "And have you learned what you needed to?"

"Part of it." Tony replied. "I suppose the rest will have to wait until later. Any new developments down here?"

Bucky huffed at him. "Nothing of note. Possible patrols on the base that we didn't hear about at the briefing. But that makes little appreciable difference to our plan."

"Right," Tony nodded, exaggerating the movement so that it would be visible to them. He paused, then glanced up at the airship. "Jarvis is yelling at me. I suspect Rhodey will take his turn next," he reported.

Steve shook his head at his soulmate. Sometimes Tony could be an idiot. "You forgot to warn them that you were testing things, didn't you?"

"They're worrywarts," Tony grumbled, irritation clear despite the distortion of his voice. "Don't start following their example or we _will_ have words, Captain."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. "Don't give us a reason to, then," he retorted.

Luckily for all of them, Monty stepped up to them and cleared his throat. "Best we get ready," he suggested, looking back and forth between them with a wry smirk tugging at his lips. "The lookouts have given us the signal."

Bucky nodded and strode off without a word to strap on his weapons and get his pack. Tony looked back up at the airship again like he was debating going back aboard her somehow.

"Right," Steve agreed. "The rest of the team prepping?"

"Dumdum, Jacques, and Gabe are equipped and waiting for the crew to open the gate, and Morita's just putting his pack on his back." Monty's smirk widened a hair. "I left my gear with them. We just need you two and that metal frisbee of yours. Barnes and that rifle of his might as well be welded together, or I'd list that piece of kit separately."

Tony chuckled. "And what am I? Chopped liver?"

"You," Monty shot back, ribbing him a bit, "are not one of the Howling Commandos, and therefore not our concern."

Turning away with a huff, Tony replied in kind. "Guess that means you're not my concern either, Falsworth."

"You two can hash this out later," Steve decided, and took the opportunity to verbally prod them into motion. "Hop to."

Tony didn't say a word, but Steve could tell he hadn't minded the ribbing one bit and would have happily kept it up until the sun rose. Monty accepted the suggestion without arguing. "Aye, Captain."

As he crossed the ship's deck to rejoin the rest of his team, Steve reached back and checked on his weapon harness, which had been specially adjusted and designed for his shield, making sure it and his weapon of choice were secure enough to stay in place as they stormed a beach.

On the surface, their mission would make a nice parallel to Operation Husky, the Allies' ongoing action to retake Sicily, which was just about to draw to a successful close based on the reports he'd heard last week [1]. There were more differences than similarities between their operation and Husky, though, Steve thought ruefully, starting with the troop numbers and geographic location, and ranging all the way to the objectives they had. His rhetorical flair for the dramatic thwarted, he set the comparison aside to mull over in more detail later. Maybe he could use it in the debrief that was sure to follow the action.

Gabe caught his eyes as he drew up alongside the small knot of his men. "You ready for this, Cap?"

He chuckled. "Show me a plan that doesn't get blown sky high the moment we make contact with the enemy, and I'll be ready."

"I thought you were supposed to be the Star Spangled Man with a Plan," Dumdum put in. "Ain't much of a plan, is it?"

"Shut up, all of ya," Bucky suggested as he joined them, his footsteps silent enough to go unheard under the sound of their conversation and the hiss of the waves. "We green?"

Tony stepped up beside Bucky. "Both teams are ready," he reported.

As if on cue, one of the ship's crew appeared out of the darkness and gave them a respectful salute. "Your team has the go-ahead, Captain. Godspeed."

"Let's go for a swim, then," Steve said with a gesture at the dark waters that awaited them.

"Goody." Monty muttered, nearly under his breath.

Steve ignored it. He felt much the same about the idea of having to swim through the cold waters of the Baltic, but they had no choice in the matter.

Bucky rolled his eyes at the lot of them and took a leap off the side of the boat, striking out for shore. Gabe took a breath and followed. The rest of them, with the exception of Tony, who had to fly, were in the water a few seconds later. Dernier took a moment to swear quietly about the water temperature as the crewman closed up the gate behind them and the ship turned to vanish into the darkness of the night.

They'd jumped into the water just over a klick from the shore, roughly opposite the mouth of the Peene River, to reduce the likelihood that they'd be seen. It was about the closest possible drop off point that the ships could reach without getting within range of the base's spotlights or being easily seen from the nearby port serving said base. There were luckily not many buildings or roads on the southern bank of the river.

Setting aside that consideration for the moment, Steve struck out after Bucky and the rest of his team. Tony had already made his landing; he'd jetted high up into the air and then silently glided down to the shore without getting spotted.

As he swam, following his team in past the port and toward the power plant that was their first objective, he saw Rhodes parachute down to join Tony, a barely visible shadow against the night sky. Steve could only track him by the few stars that winked out as he passed in front of them before reappearing as though nothing had happened.

Under five minutes later, he was staggering up the shallow slope of the beachhead through the breakers, catching his teammates' eyes one by one. He waited out the brief pause as they emptied the seawater out of their boots and checked their weapons, taking the opportunity to follow suit. As each of them finished, they gave him nods in return, signaling their readiness without speaking. War Machine dropped to the ground beside them with a thump, bringing Rhodes with him before Steve had a chance to ask Tony where Jarvis was.

Pepper would be staying aboard the airship, ready to pick them up if everything went horribly sideways. It was an emergency measure all of them hoped they wouldn't have to use, since it would be horribly dangerous, but it was also the one with the highest chance of success.

With a tap to Tony's armoured arm, Steve took off. He hated walking around in wet boots and socks, but for the time being, he'd have to cope.

The power plant was less than two hundred meters from the shore, and well lit, forcing them to approach carefully.

Keeping an eye out for the patrols Bucky had hinted might be making their rounds, Steve led the way toward the large building. They'd made landfall slightly to the north of the plant, rather than risk trying to get closer and risking discovery. The disadvantage of this approach was that they now had to cross a wide open sandy area with virtually no cover, to get to their objective.

Calling a brief halt by raising his clenched fist, Steve broke his silence. Keeping his voice pitched low, so it wouldn't carry, he asked Tony, "Your team leading the charge or are we? You'll be spotted more easily on the approach than any of us, and even with that armour you're more vulnerable in a mêlèe."

Tony considered it for a few seconds, then shrugged. "You. We'll go as far as we can without drawing attention, and then deal with the mêlèe fighting if we have to."

Gabe grinned. "Fine by me," he said quietly. "Leaves more fun for us and keeps the smart guys fresh until we get around to disabling things."

"Isn't that Dernier's job?" Tony asked.

"Shut up, now, both of you," Rhodey grumbled, "and let's go. The longer you banter, the more likely it is we'll get spotted."

"Right." Steve didn't bother arguing. Rhodey was entirely correct. "Move out."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Steve's referring to [the Allied invasion of Sicily](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Allied_invasion_of_Sicily) which was the opening move in their campaign to take back Italy from the fascists.


	15. [Bucky POV]

To his surprise, their assault on the power plant went off almost without a hitch, the chaos and gunfire on the far side of the base camouflaging their approach enough. Dernier and his bags of explosives had led the way, the rest of them hanging back to provide backup in the event that he was spotted, but otherwise not sticking too close to him. They'd done similar demolitions before on their missions, and all of Howlies knew this drill: let Dernier work his magic and only interfere to haul his bacon out of the fire if he got caught. For a man carrying kilos and kilos of powder, fuses, and grenades, he was surprisingly stealthy and good at going unnoticed.

Tony had been tempted to protest the tactic.

Bucky'd watched him pause as though looking at all of them, then just about seen him bite his tongue to hold back the words. Following their lead. Had Tony not been wearing the armour, Bucky would have taken his hand or found some other way to touch him. To reassure and reward. He knew Tony wasn't a man accustomed to taking orders, and he could see it chafe. Didn't matter that it was Steve calling the shots. Didn't matter how much Tony trusted them. Tony was used to being able -- and allowed -- to act when and how he thought necessary.

He'd calmed down when he'd spotted Dernier hurrying back out of the main building some fifteen minutes later, gesturing for them to follow him. "Allons-y!" he hissed as he passed them. "Deux minutes!"

This was also normal. But it was the part of the plan that all of them liked best. Grinning broadly, Bucky slapped at Dumdum's shoulder and they took off after their demolitions expert in the direction of the road that crossed the peninsula at a fast jog. Steve was hard on their heels, a quiet but very pleased chuckle escaping him. The rest of the Howlies and Tony's group followed them gamely.

The group of them paused a few yards from the narrow two lane road and Bucky watched Steve glance around, quickly surveying what he could see of the area. Bucky left him to it. Steve's night vision might be worse than his own, but it wasn't by much, and he was better at picking up sound or movement. It had happened before that, where Bucky and the others had seen nothing but a large-ish thicket, Steve had spotted an ambush and saved their asses.

The road, leading toward the research buildings on the far side of the base, was dark. There was, unsurprisingly, no traffic at this hour of the night. The patrols Bucky had thought he'd spotted earlier, in the slightly brighter hour of twilight they'd had aboard the ship, still weren't in evidence. That was all for the best, since there wasn't much more cover here than there had been on their approach to the power plant. They'd be sitting ducks if anyone stumbled across them here.

"What're we waiting for?" Jarvis asked, his distorted voice seeming overloud to Bucky despite being about as quiet as was possible for him to achieve.

"Cap's our ears and nose. Barnes is our eyes. Between 'em they've spotted more ambushes and patrols than I've bothered to count and they're at their best when we're out hunting Germans or HYDRA," Dumdum answered.

Jarvis nodded, accepting that, and Steve cleared his throat, just in time to be interrupted by the boom as the power plant exploded in a ball of bright yellow fire. The lights all over the base went out, replaced by a few scattered red bulbs in key areas that flickered on when the backup generators kicked on a few seconds later.

"That's our cue, boys," Steve said. "Iron Man?"

Tony stood a little straighter. "Yeah?"

"We're heading straight for the research buildings. Once we get there, the Howlies will follow your lead. You know more about what we're looking for than I do." Steve unhooked his shield from its harness. "Meantime, we need to stay out of sight as much as possible."

As if in response, three pairs of headlights appeared on the road, heading toward them. Bucky swore.

Tony did too, but his wings flared wide. "On the ground!" he called, urgency driving his voice a bit higher and louder than Bucky was strictly comfortable with.

Everyone listened, though. Steve added his support to the idea. "Under cover!"

It took less than three seconds for the Commandos to arrange themselves in a row on the ground around Steve beneath the level of the road, and then Tony was carefully worming his way into the middle of their cluster, wings spread to hide them from sight as much as possible. Monty, thinking quickly, whipped a camouflage netting out of somewhere in his pack in time to toss one end of it to Morita who helped spread it over Tony's shiny armoured back, then shouldered his pack again.

Even as he wondered why in the hell Monty had bothered to bring a netting on a smash and grab mission, Bucky heard Jarvis grab Rhodes and jet high into the air, drawing attention away from them by being obvious enough to draw fire. Steve swore, his voice a vehement hiss, until Tony shushed him. "They'll meet us at the labs."

Steve drew breath to reply, but cut himself off when the crunch of wheels on unpaved road grew loud enough to make him think better of it.

Bucky all but held his breath, and felt Dernier go tense at his back.

A burst of machine gun fire went off, just over their heads, and Tony shuddered hard enough to make the plates of his armour rattle. The sound thankfully went unnoticed by the men in the vehicle, but Bucky knew they were inches away from getting discovered. Dumdum was silently fidgeting with his weapons harness, careful to pick something that wouldn't make any noise to give them away. He couldn't get a fix on Gabe, Morita, or Monty. But Dernier was swearing at the Germans soundlessly. Bucky only knew that because he could feel the slight puffs of breath against his neck, though. Steve simply held as still as he could stand to.

It felt like an eternity went by, but eventually, the guy in command made the decision to do something more useful than chase after the disappearing armour and its passenger. He snapped out an order in German and the vehicle's motor revved. It moved away from them toward the burning power plant with a loud crunch of gravel and a puff of fine dust. Only after the sound of the vehicle's motion had died away to nothing, did they so much as twitch.

"Jarvis says we're in the clear," Tony informed them, the words carried along on a sigh of relief. "Time to get moving."

Monty extricated himself carefully from his spot in the pile, gathered up his netting, and stowed it before he hauled Tony to his feet with a grunt of effort. "You're no featherweight," he muttered.

"I'm wearing about sixty kilos of metal," Tony riposted, the words somehow almost soundless, as he stood. "Anyway, a thank you would be nice."

"Thanks, Tony." Bucky said, giving Tony what he wanted. After a beat Bucky realised belatedly that Tony'd been using the assist for balance rather than making Monty lift his full weight and the armour's. That was Tony through and through. Bucky had seen that repeatedly already, even in the short few days he'd known the man. Always looking out for his friends and just as fiercely independent as Steve. That might cause them trouble later, if they weren't careful about it. Bucky had been keeping one self-sacrificing soulmate alive for years. He didn't want to imagine what running herd on two would be like.

Shaking off the thoughts, he waited until the others had picked themselves up before he joined them and prodded them into motion. Dusting off his pants, he settled his pack more comfortably on his back. Starting to walk, he asked, "You idiots coming?"

They scrambled to follow, and Bucky could tell Gabe and Dumdum were tempted to jeer and rib him. Steve gave him a subtle smirk that made Bucky think of all the things they'd done last night (and then all the things he still wanted to try) that involved coming, before he forced his expression calm again. It was a brief thing, a moment of levity, but damned if it didn't distract Bucky from their mission entirely for several long minutes. Even as he plotted out ways to take his revenge on Steve later, in painstaking detail -- enlisting Tony to help him drive Steve absolutely to the end of his stamina sounded like it would make for a fun night -- Bucky knew he ought to be focused on their surroundings. Problem was, that added element of danger was only making laying these plans hotter and more fun. Anything was more exciting when you might get caught doing it.

Luckily for him, they met no one until long after he had dotted the I's and crossed the T's on his plans.

They managed to cross three of the three-and-a-quarter kilometers between the power plant and the research buildings before they stumbled across the first patrol. Odds were good that was because of the racket being caused by the troops storming the opposite side of the base. Somewhat predictably, in his position beside Steve at the front of their little column, Bucky was the first to spot them. He signaled for a halt and caught Dernier's eyes. "Think you can put a grenade on the ground at their feet? That'd take care of the lot of them in one shot."

"Mais bien sûr," Dernier replied, his expression gleeful. He held out a hand expectantly to Gabe. "Donne-moi l'un des tiens. J'aurai besoin des miens plus tard."

"And what if _I_ need them later?" Gabe groused at him, even as he handed over the requested ammunition.

No one said anything for a few long seconds, watching Dernier gauge the distance carefully before he pulled the pin. The tension in the air rose noticeably as the grenade sailed through the air, and then released when the grenade went off. The patrol, caught off guard, had no time to do more than cry out in pain as it exploded.

"We'll cope," Steve said to Gabe, picking the thread back up again, "but for now we need to get out of the open."

"No kidding?" Morita sniped, sounding like he felt Steve was stating the obvious.

Bucky had to admit, he kind of was. Dumdum rolled his eyes, skirted the group of unconscious and dead bodies, then made for the doors just visible on their side of the research building. Tony followed him closely, and readied his weapons. Tony's kit would be far more useful inside the building than outside and all of them knew it.

"How's Jarvis doin'?" Bucky asked once he was close enough.

"Waiting on the roof," Tony replied shortly, twisting at the doorknob with the full strength of the armour. It gave with a loud squeal of metal, and then the door swung open as Tony stepped back with the knob broken off in his hand. "I've asked him to join us here."

The moment Tony had finished speaking, a flare of jets from above them signaled War Machine's approach. Jarvis landed a couple of meters from them and set Rhodey on his feet. "Well? What are you standing around for?"

Tony chuckled. "Waiting for you. Come on, old friend. Let's get this done so we can go home."

They all exchanged a look, and then Tony ducked through the door, leading the way with his wings mantled to make himself look as big as possible. He reminded Bucky of an avenging angel, and the thought sent an entirely inappropriate shiver of arousal through him despite the situation. Tony, unaware of his thoughts, continued moving and making sure he more or less filled the hallway, coincidentally blocking any view the rest of them might have had. As he walked, Bucky heard a number of bullets ricochet off Tony's armour with metallic _pings_ to embed themselves in the walls. They made him twitch with the need to shield Tony, and nevermind that Tony was armoured where he wasn't. Steve growled some swears under his breath when bullets whizzed between Tony's feathers to ping off his shield instead.

That made something in Bucky, some level of restraint he'd been fighting to keep, snap like a wire zipline pulled too tight. He grabbed for his assault rifle, strapped across his back, racked the slide, flipped off the safety, and dropped to his stomach. Gabe stumbled over his legs and swore at him, but Bucky ignored him entirely. All of his focus was on his rifle. He had a decent view now, around Tony's feet.

Time seemed to slow. He smiled, the expression feeling somehow triumphant and vengeful, and pulled the trigger, firing in short bursts. Four bullets for the man ahead of Tony and to his left. Five for the two on the right side of the hallway. Three single shots to make sure they stayed down.

Tony paused in his tracks for a beat, sighed, and grumbled, "Was it really too much to ask that you let me deal with them, Bucky? You could have saved yourself the ammo."

Monty and Dernier advanced far enough to check on the bodies, then glanced up and nodded. Steve huffed at their soulmate. "If he hadn't, Iron Man, one of the rest of us would have done it."

"Damn right. Don't be dense. We don't need you playing target," Jarvis chimed in as he stepped in front of Tony and over to the door at the end of the corridor. He opened it to reveal a T-junction, then turned back to the group and suggested, "This will be easiest if we split up. We can cover more ground that way. Iron Man and I have radios we can use to keep in touch. Rhodes, Falsworth, Morita, Dugan? With me."

The three named Howlies glanced at Steve for permission, got it, and followed Jarvis through the door. Bucky stepped up to Tony and knocked on the side of his helmet, enjoying the way Tony tried and failed to flinch away from the bell-like tone that resulted, echoing loudly enough inside the armour to be audible outside it.

Dernier watched the other half of their group file through the door and to the left, and shrugged. "Bon, alors. Vas-y."

Gabe chuckled. "He's right. Move it along before we're pinned down again."

Bucky caught Tony's eyes through his faceplate. "We're having words about this later," he told the moron. "Now we need to find that artifact that's here, whatever it is."

To his surprise, things went smoothly for a while, after that. They got down three corridors without running into anymore patrols, and the other team was doing similarly well. Steve got tenser with every minute that went by, though, not trusting the quiet. For his part, Bucky thought it was a little bit paranoid to think their opponents were trying to lull them into a false sense of security, but Steve was their tactician, and Bucky couldn't deny that that would be the most effective way to deal with a small team like theirs.

Despite Steve's jumpiness, nothing happened until after they'd sorted through the second lab. Tony had been mostly silent, muttering to himself about what he found in the labs and leaving the task of securing the area to the rest of them. That was more or less what they'd agreed on, so Bucky didn't put up a fight. When he straightened like he'd been stuck with a pin, Steve was the first to jump in and ask, "Iron Man? What is it?"

Gabe looked over from his position by the door. "We got trouble?"

"Dugan's found what we're after," Tony reported. "We need to get to them. Judging by the description Jarvis just radioed over it's the orichalcum trident head that HYDRA stole out of my hands a month ago."

"How dangerous is it?" Steve asked him.

"Very." Tony sounded grim. "It magnifies any energy fed into it and then releases it any way it can. If it's not connected to anything, it can produce lightning storms out of thin air."

Holy Mother of-- Bucky's eyes widened. "We saw something a lot like that, the night we broke you out of Donar."

"Then we can rest assured HYDRA knows it can do that, and that they'll be leveling everything they can at us to get it back," Gabe said with a groan. "Damn it."

Without another word, they hurriedly destroyed the intel in the lab they'd been searching, and hustled out of the big room. They collided with a second patrol, because that was just their luck, and a shout went up.

«Stark ist hier! Und der Kapitän Amerika! Wir müssen Baron Zemo informieren!» the commanding officer ordered. The patrol nodded and dispersed, scattering in pairs. Each taking a different route to their objective no doubt.

"Merde!" Dernier swore.

"Boy, you said it," Gabe agreed, and then they took off as one.

"This way, come on. The others'll meet us outside." Tony led them hurriedly down the identical seeming corridors and through doors that needed to be forced open, taking the directest route he knew to get to Jarvis and the artifact they needed to secure. Tellingly, Steve didn't object. If anything, he chafed at the way Tony's armour forced them to a speed well below what the Howlies could make if they were on their own.

Before Bucky's own impatience could get the better of him, a large window loomed before them. The glass within the frame had been shattered, and Jarvis was helping hold the airship's ladder steady for his half of the team.


	16. [Tony POV]

Watching the airship retreat under heavy anti-air fire with several of the Howling Commandos still climbing the ladder to get aboard, Tony winced. "We've got to do something about those flak guns,[1]" he told Steve. 

He, Steve, Bucky, Rhodey, Gabe, Dernier, and Morita were still on the ground, and that wasn't ideal. At least Dumdum and the trident were aboard the airship and safely away from the fighting. If they had to, the others could still parachute back down to help them.

Rhodey, keeping an eye on their six, put in, "We do that, and we'll have the attention of the whole base."

"Pretty sure we do already, Jonesy," Bucky said on a sigh. "Might as well take advantage of it to show the rest of the friendly forces where we are."

"Où est notre cible?" Dernier asked, pulling them back on topic. Steve stepped up to the side of the window, staying more or less behind the casement as he scanned the visible portion of the base. There were a number of buildings on fire, now, and the rattle of gunfire was going on uninterrupted.

Tony pointed out the slightly taller building just visible to the northeast of their position. "Looks like that's where we need to go."

"Tony," Pepper's voice interrupted him. "We're taking damage. Much more of this and we'll have to break off and head home."

Turning his attention to the radio for the time he needed to reply, Tony held up a finger to indicate to the others that he needed a moment. "Copy, Pep. Keep the airship safe. If we have to, we'll take the long way home, or meet you somewhere outside the line of fire."

"Copy. Stay safe." She shut off the radio, resulting in a little click on Tony's end, and he watched the airship heel to port and retreat out over the waters of the Baltic sea, moving to place itself out of reach of the guns. Tony could only hope that there wasn't any artillery hidden away on this base that had a long enough reach to hit the airship despite the evasive maneuvers Pepper and Jarvis had initiated.

"Well?" Steve demanded. "What news?"

"The airship was taking too much fire and had to get out of range or risk getting shot out of the sky," Tony reported.

Bucky swore. "Okay, let's go deal with those guns so we can get out of here under cover of the fighting."

Steve nodded. "We're only one floor up. We'll just jump down to street level, if there are no objections."

No one protested the decision. Tony reached for the window casement. "I'll go first, then. You can use my shoulders as a stepping stone."

Steve looked like he wanted to say no, but Tony stopped that by dint of simply ducking through the casement and jumping the three meters to the ground, careful to take the impact in his knees and let the hydraulics of his suit buffer the force for him. The crash of metal on concrete pavement was loud, but the noise ought to go unnoticed in the din of the nearby battle. He straightened, looked expectantly back at Steve and put up a hand. "Who's next?"

Rhodey ducked out after him, and didn't hesitate to put his foot in Tony's open palm. "Me, Boss."

Steve kept an eye on their surroundings, taking advantage of his position above Tony to watch for patrols. "Five men on your four o'clock, Iron Man."

Readying his armaments, Tony raised his free hand as Rhodey climbed down his front. He heard a burst of fire come from the window above him, and followed it up with a short blast of flame.

Caught off guard, the group of men ducked hastily back around the corner of the building and shouted about reinforcements.

The rest of his allies hastily joined him on the ground, and Steve took off after the men who'd stumbled across them without a word. Bucky followed him, assault rifle held at the ready at his hip.

By the time everyone else had gotten to their feet on street level, Steve and Bucky had come back around the corner, purpose radiating out of the sets of their jaws and shoulders. "That way is blocked off by a barricade," Bucky said, and Steve finished the sentence, "we'll have to go around the other side or try to blow our way through."

Dernier smirked and held up a cylindrical object that reminded Tony of a message tube designed for a pneumatic mail system [2] in its dimensions. " Cela va-t-il?"

Steve obviously recognised the object, whatever it was, and smirked back. "Fine by me."

Dernier fiddled with the thing's fuse, then lit it, and ducked around the corner just long enough to lob the tube at the barricade. Three seconds later, an explosion strong enough to make the ground shudder underfoot went off.

Before the smoke had cleared, Steve was in motion, Bucky, Morita, Dernier and Gabe, hard on his heels. Tony followed behind them, keeping his wings tucked close to his back this time. He rounded the corner to find the team picking their way quickly through the tangled heaps of wood and metal that had once been a barricade. Here and there, Tony swallowed, he could see a hand or a boot poking out from beneath the wreckage.

He tried not to breathe too deeply as he followed with Rhodey at his back.

They encountered two more small groups of defenders, but Steve and his Commandos ploughed right through them as though no one was there, leaving little for him and Rhodey to do.

Fighting their way through the building to get to the guns and disable them was similarly easy. Tony wasn't sure how to feel about that. After the troop that had scattered to inform Zemo of their presence had seemingly vanished, nothing had happened. That was starting to put him on edge. Either the comment about Zemo had been intended to bait them into pursuit or something else was in the works.

Neither option was strictly good.

Without intel, they couldn't react, though. They had to keep carving their way forward and wait for the shoe to drop. Tony surveyed the rooftop, the four eighty-eights[3] and their crews had not lasted long against the combined wrath of Iron Man and the Howling Commandos.

"Down!" Bucky yelled, surprising him out of his thoughts.

Unable to go completely prone without needing more time than he had, Tony chose to go to one knee and use one of the disabled flak guns for cover. Around him, the Howlies and Rhodey hit the deck.

Tony was just in time, too. Flashes of blue light splashed against steel all around him, turning the canon red hot in moments, and starting to melt it. "Shit," he yelped, identifying those flares of light as coming from the ray guns they'd been expecting to go up against all mission. "I've gotta take to the sky."

"Go," Morita told him, "you're no use to us if you get hit by one of those."

Steve growled something wordless and stood, deflecting a shot with his shield, and Bucky joined him. The pair of them was lit in the light of that shot for the barest instant, looking like a pair of sentinels prepared to stand against a damned tsunami and win.

And then things stopped making any sense. Steve was sailing through the air, for all the world like he had a pair of rocket boosters hidden in his boots.

Tony gaped, unprepared to watch Steve leap what had to be five meters to get to the rooftop of the neighboring building, and hesitated just long enough to catch a shot from a ray gun on his left vambrace, just above the wrist.

He hissed in pain as the metal instantly heated and scrambled to get it off before it burned his skin. Bucky was there, helping, his gloves singeing where they touched the hot metal, and then his left vambrace and gauntlet were lying on the rooftop, cooling, and melting the coal tar pitch waterproofing [4] as they did. Tony only distantly registered that Gabe, Dernier and Morita were giving Steve covering fire as he ruthlessly laid out the goons on the opposite roof.

In the time it took for his gauntlet to cool enough to be picked up (albeit with a chunk of the waterproofing still sticking to it), Steve had cleared out the opposite roof, collected up the ray guns, and made the leap back over to them.

"Iron Man!" he exclaimed, sounding worried as he stepped up to Tony and checked him over for injuries that weren't immediately visible. He lingered over Tony's bare hand, but took care not to be too obvious about it. "Are you alright?"

"No harm done, but I don't particularly want to do that again. I'll be carrying around a chunk of roofing until we're back aboard the airship," Tony replied, not bothering to keep the rueful smile out of his voice.

"Good," Steve said, with a stern look and a firm nod. "We need to keep moving or we'll be sitting ducks. I'm betting Zemo or Strucker sent that squad after us."

"I don't take stacked bets," Gabe quipped. "But I'm pretty sure the building just to our south is the one they use to keep their prisoners. And it looks intact. Might be worth getting them out. We could use the extra firepower, and they deserve to be rescued."

Dernier nodded. "Je suis d'accord. Si le capitaine n'avait pas fait ça pour nous, nous serions encore à Kreischberg ou décédés."

"Right." Morita grinned, the expression holding a world of schadenfreude. "I'm in favor of anything that makes HYDRA's life harder."

Those of them that were on foot hurried down the stairwell to ground level, while Tony kept watch where he was, ready to jump down once they appeared out in the open again. It took under two minutes for them to burst through one of the side doors of the building, almost directly below Tony, and he was sure that was no accident. Shaking his head at his soulmates' not-so-subtle tactics, Tony leapt down to rejoin them, and followed them into the next building.

They kept their weapons at the ready, but barely needed them. There was barely a skeleton staff manning the place, and the prisoners met them halfway, to Steve's visible amusement.

"Who's in charge, here?" he asked them, looking over the group.

A tall blonde woman stepped forward. "That'd be me, Captain," she replied and offered him a hand to shake. "Carol Danvers, formerly assigned to Bletchley Park[5]."

Tony was glad they'd found her and not the allied forces providing their cover. Steve and his Commandos were plenty used to female authority figures, and thus also far more likely to accept her claim. Assuming she was telling the truth, anyway. They had no way of knowing, and no time to find out.

Bucky eyed her. "And now? What unit are you with?"

"I'm not. I was in transit to one of the field offices when I got ambushed and brought here," Carol informed him. "Given that our policy is to declare anyone missing for more than four days KIA, I'm officially not enlisted anymore and have lost my clearances."

"Damned shame," Rhodey murmured under his breath. He stepped up and offered her a hand and introduced herself. "James Rhodes. How'd you like to come work with us, then?"

Danvers raised an eyebrow at him. "We'll see. Get us out of this hell hole, before you go making promises you can't keep," she said, her tone grim, but took his hand.

Her eyes went wide, and Rhodey jerked like he'd grabbed a live wire.

Tony wanted to sigh. He was pretty sure Rhodey had just met his soulmate, and that kind of distraction was really the last thing they needed at the moment. Just great. "Good," he put in, "Now that that's settled, we should make our way back out of this hell hole."

Everyone straightened. Danvers looked him up and down. "Who-- no _what_ the hell are you?"

"I'll explain later. March." Tony demanded, heading for the door they'd come in through. It was the closest exit to their eventual destination anyway. They needed to get to the rocket test stands, about a klick and a half to the north-northwest of their current position. "You have weapons and ammunition?"

Carol snorted. "Only what we could steal so far."

Without a word, Rhodey handed her his plundered ray gun.

She grinned, hefting the gun and checking it over, looking a bit like Tony imagined a Valkyrie would. Just what Rhodey would want in a soulmate, Tony suspected, feeling more than a hint of amusement. "I'll just take this, then," she said happily. "It'll do nicely. Thank you."

The others handed over their own plundered ray guns, seeing the sense in the move, and they trooped after Tony. He led them out of the building, their little squad now numbering twenty-one, rather than the seven they'd started with after the airship had been forced to retreat. Steve let him keep the lead, but Tony knew that would only last until the bullets started flying.

Back outdoors, in the darkness of the night, the sounds of fighting suddenly seemed a lot closer. Gunfire, shouting, and the rumble of diesel motors sounded all around them and echoed off the sides of the buildings, making tracking sounds pretty much impossible. Tony ignored the commotion as best he could and took off for the area he knew the rocket test stands were in.

"Pepper?" he called, cuing his radio connection to the airship. "You there?"

Silence answered him, making him uneasy, but he forced it aside. He'd wait half a minute and try again.

The thirty seconds he'd decided on passed achingly slowly, as they made their way past another barricade. Danvers and the six of her men who'd gotten ray guns from the Howlies had cleared it out for them practically before they were even spotted. The distraction of the other allied troops was definitely working in their favor now.

Once they were past the barricade, Tony tried again. "Pepper? Jarvis? Do you copy?"

"We hear you, Tony," Dugan replied. "What's the situation down there?"

Tony bit back a sigh of relief and followed Steve down the dark street as he talked, keeping a wary eye on the buildings to either side of them. The base felt like some eerie location out of legend, composed of sinister shadows and pain. "We could use a pick-up, if you can swing it. We're making for the rocket test stands as planned."

Dumdum hissed in annoyance. "That'll be a difficult spot to stop. Think you can handle a fly-by? Jarvis tells me you do those sometimes."

Tony winced. "Difficult. We have some rescued POWs with us. We're twenty-one rather than seven."

Dumdum swore. "I'll talk to Jarvis. You morons get to the test stand and hole up there."

Danvers gave him a suspicious look, and Tony suddenly wondered if she'd noticed that he was radioing someone. "Well?" she demanded.

Surmising what he had done, Rhodey turned to him and interjected, "You made contact, Boss?"

Tony would have nodded, had he not been encased in his armour. "Danvers," he replied, "we're going to the rocket test stands for extraction as planned. A few friends of mine will fly my airship over the area, and we'll have to take a running leap for the ladder if possible, or it might get shot out of the air. Think you and your men can handle that?"

They were coming up on an area with little cover that stood between them and their goal. Not much farther now. The rocket test stand wasn't an area that would offer them many places to conceal themselves, either. They'd have to be careful.

Danvers eyed him like he was a week old fish. "You have an airship."

It wasn't a question.

Bucky chuckled under his breath. "He does," he told her. "Ever read _Marvels_?"

"You're serious?" Danvers looked him over once from head to toe. "Since when does Iron Man have wings and a tail?" she asked. "And that armour looks nothing like the illustrations."

Rather than let Tony answer, Steve redirected the conversation. "Iron Man," he asked, surveying the men behind his second and the rest of his Commandos, "what do we do if not everyone can get aboard?"

"Well, I can fly. Everyone else had better get aboard somehow, or meet up with the other Allied forces for extraction." Tony said, knowing his words were a bit harsh. But that was simply the reality of the situation. They were running a big risk, bringing the airship close enough for a pick-up in the first place, even now that they'd disabled those eighty-eights that had been causing Pepper trouble. "Our best bet is to get everyone climbing the ladder as soon as possible, and get out of here, yesterday. We may have disabled some of their flak guns, but I have a suspicion they have more, or worse, more experimental artillery."

Gabe groaned. "As if this mission wasn't already FUBAR."

Dernier laughed at him. "Regardez le bon côté. Nous serons bientôt sortis d'ici."

Steve paused for a beat before he led them out into the open area in front of the test stand, checking their surroundings and looking for any threats. Bucky followed his lead. Together they canvassed what Tony estimated to be a ten meter radius, given the visibility, then moved forward as one without needing to say a word to one another.

Danvers growled something uncomplimentary under her breath that Tony couldn't make out, but didn't openly protest their taking charge. The Howlies, Tony, Rhodey, and their rescued POWs hurried across over to the shadowed area of the test stand, next to the building adjoining it. [6]The stand itself was a bare ellipse of land with two observation towers standing to either side of a central launch platform. The building nearby was, based on some RAF reconnaissance photos taken a year ago, most likely to be a combination of control center and lab.

Morita made a face. "We might as well try to take this out as long as we're here anyway."

"After we're on our way out," Rhodey told him firmly.

Dernier nodded. "Compris. Je vais m'occuper du bâtiment. Vous faites attention à la zone de lancement."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] I'm going to be lazy here, and just quote the relevant [Wikipedia article](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/8.8_cm_Flak_18/36/37/41). " _Flak is a contraction of German Flugzeugabwehrkanone meaning "aircraft-defense cannon", the original purpose of the weapon. In English, "flak" became a generic term for ground anti-aircraft fire. In informal use, the guns were universally known as the Acht-acht ("eight-eight") by Germans and the "eighty-eight" by the Allies._ " Click here to return to text.
> 
> [2] It was a thing, once upon a time, a long time ago, to [use pressurised air in pipes to send mail](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pneumatic_tube#In_postal_service). It fell out of fashion quickly though, because it was expensive and didn't work well over long distances. The [last remaining example](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prague_pneumatic_post) is in Prague, and only extends about 37 miles. In other words, you could make it work for a reasonably sized city, but not nationally or even regionally. Click here to return to text.
> 
> [3] See [1]. Click here to return to text.
> 
> [4] Believe it or not, I looked this up too. During the WWII era, the popular roofing types were coal tar pitch and asphalt. For more details [follow the link](https://www.buildings.com/article-details/articleid/13720/title/asphalt-vs-coal-tar-pitch-roofing). Click here to return to text.
> 
> [5] Here I am going to be lazy again. Here is the relevant [Wikipedia link](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Women_in_Bletchley_Park). " _About 8,000 women worked in Bletchley Park, the central site for British cryptoanalysts, during World War II. Women constituted roughly 75% of the workforce there. While women were overwhelmingly under-represented in high-level work, such as cryptoanalysis, they were employed in large numbers in important auxiliary work, such as: operating cryptographic machinery and communications machinery; translating of Axis documents; traffic analysis; clerical duties, and many more besides._ " Click here to return to text.
> 
> [6] So, this time we're starting off with an [aerial photo of one of the Peenemünde test stands with visible V2 rocket engines](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Test_Stand_VII#/media/File:Peenemunde-165515.jpg). These are where they tested their rocket engine designs, basically. So any damage to them would have set back research tremendously. To follow that up, since it's a bit tough to interpret, I'm also linking a [tabletop scale replica](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Test_Stand_VII#/media/File:Pruefstand-VII-Peenemuende.jpg). Both the image and the replica are of the same test site, and if you're interested in some more reading, here is a [Wikipedia link](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Test_Stand_VII) about it. Click here to return to text.


	17. [Steve POV]

The reactions of the POWs to hearing Dernier speak were interesting. Five of them turned to stare at him in surprise, and then the group of them had a rapid fire conversation that Steve didn't fully follow. Sure, he caught single words and phrases here and there, but not enough to understand fully. His French was passable but not quite up to this task.

It didn't take long for them to organise themselves into two groups of three and divvy up the explosives between them. The leader of the group of French POWs turned to Steve and said, in lightly accented English, "My countrymen and I will assist in this. We have some experience in carrying out such strikes. Keep the Germans off us, and we will make sure the bombs are placed."

"You got it," Steve agreed. "Miss Danvers, I'd suggest deploying the rest of your men around the stand itself. My men and I will keep an eye on the building and approaches."

Danvers gave him a look. "That's going to get you killed."

Tony laughed, the sound oddly sinister thanks to the distortion of his armour and the way it echoed slightly in his helmet. "Do you know who you're talking to?" he asked. "I'll go with you, Captain. Rhodes, you with me or Danvers?"

"If it's all the same, I'll go with Miss Danvers, Boss." Rhodey replied quietly.

Tony waved off the implied concern. "Okay. Keep an eye out for my signal. I'll be in radio contact with the airship. Once they're here, we'll have to move fast. It should be in range to drop the ladder in about five minutes, so don't be late getting back here."

Everyone nodded. Some looked thoughtful, others concerned. One of the younger POWs, barely more than a kid, looked terrified. He swallowed back the emotion with an effort of will, though, and followed Danvers into the shadows surrounding the test stand itself.

Had the timing been better Steve might have tried to calm the boy down, but now was not the moment to worry about that. He turned to his Commandos, caught their eyes one by one, then hefted his shield. "Alright, gang, let's hit 'em where it hurts."

"Aye aye, Captain," Morita joked, and then they were off.

The approaches to the stand were as shrouded in darkness as the stand itself. There were a few isolated emergency lights, but they only sufficed to light the most critical areas: the doors of the building, the nearest five meters of the unpaved road leading up to it, and the pair of observation towers.

Expecting the building to be manned, Steve made sure to keep his team from entering it. The demolition crew was nowhere to be seen, most probably already having slipped into the basement level to plant their charges.

When he stopped moving, taking up a position that gave him a view of the road and the main doors, he felt more than heard Bucky stop with him, covering his back. The rest of the Howlies spread out a little, keeping a watchful eye on two of the other sides of the building and the other approach. The road that the building was positioned on extended further north to the other test stands. They were at the southernmost one, and there was a possibility that HYDRA troops deployed to protect the other stands might come defend this one if word of the Howlies' presence here reached them.

He couldn't see Rhodes or Danvers in the darkness, but he could just make out their voices, though not their words, as they talked quietly.

For his part, Steve was trying not to let his nerves get the better of him. It was difficult to tell, but he thought the fighting might be getting closer to them. "Iron Man?" he asked, "how much longer do we have to hold out?"

Tony's head tilted and Steve could just hear the muffled words as he radioed the airship. Once he had an answer, Tony turned to him and relayed the message. "Dugan says just under two minutes. They've secured the artifact and tried to make enough space for all our new friends."

Bucky sniffed, appearing out of the darkness to stand beside Steve. "It'll be standing room only."

"Better than staying here," Tony replied. "You got news for us?"

"Charges are planted and a few of the building's staff are doing time in the nearest broom closet." Bucky said with a solemn mien. "The demolition team is outside, waiting on the east side of the building."

A low buzz grew audible over the sounds of the fighting, and Steve recognised the motors of the airship. It was time to go. "Gather everyone up, Buck, now."

He got a sloppy salute in reply, and Bucky strode off around the corner of the building with purpose in his bearing.

Steve turned to Tony and found that Tony was already moving.

"We need to be fast," Tony reminded him as they approached the position Danvers and her troops had picked. "Rhodey?"

"Yeah, Boss?" Rhodey looked up from his hushed conversation with Danvers. "We finally getting out of here?"

Danvers made a face that said she had no idea what to feel. "I'll be glad never to see this place again."

Turning to her men, she whistled sharply, though she kept the volume low. The sound immediately got their attention, and all it took to have them standing and preparing themselves for the extraction was eye contact.

Steve had little doubt Peggy would try to recruit Danvers and any of these men that she could.

But first they had to get back to London.

"We have about a minute to go," Tony informed them, and watched as they nodded silently. "The airship will slow and drop a rope ladder as it passes over this test stand. As it crosses the stand we'll have to grab the ladder and climb. That means moving as fast as we can. Every last man jack of us has to be on that ladder by the time the ship has crossed the test stand. Before if possible. It won't be easy."

Danvers smiled crookedly. "For the chance to get out of here, we'll make it work."

The men behind her nodded in agreement.

"Boss," Rhodey added, "you should know something: we've confirmed it. Carol's my soulmate."

Danvers turned to him with what probably qualified as a sappy smile by her standards, but Tony thought was mostly fond. "Sure as hell didn't think I'd find my mated out here, but I'm not about to argue with fate."

Before anyone else could speak, Tony's body language changed, enough to be visible through the armour, and he said, "We're out of time; get ready."

Shouts went up from nearby groups of German soldiers as the airship came into range of the base's reduced emergency lights, but Steve heard no artillery fire.

Good.

What felt like a half hour later, the rope ladder was unfurling and Danvers was urging the first few of her men to start climbing. "Hurry now! Up! I'll see you at the top!" she called, verbally shoving the reluctant men onwards.

It went off like clockwork, and then suddenly he and Bucky and Tony we're the only ones left on the ground. "Buck?"

"See you at the top," he replied with a wink, borrowing Danvers' words, and jumped for the ladder.

Steve followed suit, enjoying the view as he climbed.

Tony waited for them to get a few meters up, then hit the thrusters in his boots and shot up into the sky, leaving behind a trail of fire and smoke. He had his wings spread for balance and was using his tail to steer.

The strong smell of burning fuel made Steve cough as Tony passed him, which was bad enough, in that it made continuing to climb much more difficult. The sight of him, shooting through the sky like a rocket, drew more than a little bit of enemy fire, which was worse. Far worse. Not only did it make Tony a tempting target for HYDRA and the Germans, but probably also for any Allied troops who mistook him for a German-launched weapon. He winced and forced himself not to watch and let himself get so distracted he forgot to climb the damned ladder.

For about ten seconds, all he could do was fight not to let the shaking and swaying of said ladder throw him off balance. And then Steve heard more than one bullet ping off of Tony's armour, in quick succession. Someone had managed to get him sighted in, and taken advantage of it. For a brief moment, Steve felt Bucky's dismay and fear as clearly as if they'd been touching. He heard Tony's startled shout as someone scored a lucky hit, and couldn't stop himself from calling out. "Iron Man!"

Not bothering to reply verbally, Tony simply made directly for the airship, leaving Steve and Bucky to worry and hurry up the ladder after him as best they could. 

Bucky swore viciously and moved faster, closing the small gap he'd left between himself and Morita. "He'd better not be bleeding when I see him next or I swear I'll give him a--"

"Buck," Steve broke in, trying to reassure his mated even as he worried, himself, "he made it to the airship. The rest, we can deal with."

The attempt got him a growl in reply: "You better be right, or I'll make sure he sleeps in his study for a week, _after_ he gets out of medical. And he won't get to play tickle-tail for quite some time after that."

Had Tony not been injured again -- for the second time in the week they'd known him, no less -- Steve might have been amused by Bucky's vehemence. They were very much in agreement on that particular point, though.

Not that Steve could say so out loud. He gritted his teeth against the need to wrap Tony up in cottonwool and made sure he kept right on Bucky's heels as a second well-aimed burst of fire missed them by about a meter and a half. "We're taking fire," he called up the line, "pick up your feet!"

Thankfully for his fraying nerves, his Commandos listened -- they knew well enough that Steve didn't usually exaggerate threats -- and they made it aboard the airship with what felt like moments to spare. Underfoot the floor vibrated subtly as the airship's engines revved, and she picked up both speed and altitude hastily.

The airship was, predictably, crowded almost to bursting at its seams. There were people everywhere, and, for all that everyone did their best not to block the corridors or otherwise get in the way, obstructions were inevitable.

Steve knew that. He did. And on any other night he wouldn't have minded it nearly as much as he did now. Now he had one injured soulmate who needed to be read the riot act, and a second who was hell bent on doing just that. He, himself, wasn't exactly calm and levelheaded at the moment either. He knew that too.

None of that mattered.

He needed to get to Tony and assess the damage, and he needed to do it five minutes ago. The group of French POWs spilling out of the galley and into the corridor needed to move. He needed to feel Bucky's hand against his skin. Preferably Tony's too.

Bucky, who'd been in front of him on the ladder, simply started down the corridor, gently but insistently shoving and pushing until people got the message and let him through. Steve followed in his mate's wake, taking advantage of the path Bucky was breaking.

"Hey, Cap'n," Morita broke into his thoughts before they got out of earshot, "do us all a favor and don't let Barnes get so wrapped up in his soulmate that he forgets to come up for air." 

Tossing a wave over his shoulder to show that he'd heard and understood, Steve didn't bother to stop or turn. "I can't promise anything," he replied, knowing full well he was in just as much danger of that as Bucky, "but I'll see what I can do."

Gabe laughed at them, but no one criticised. The Howlies had more or less adopted Tony, and it showed. The thought made Steve smile despite the situation they found themselves in.

His team also knew Tony was unlikely to listen to anyone but the two of them.

"Rhodes," Falsworth put in as Steve got out of earshot, "don't you have somewhere to be, as well?"

That juicy bit of gossip had clearly spread like wildfire, and Steve shook his head. Why and how he'd ended up with a team of men who were so prone to picking up and passing on scuttlebutt, he had no idea, but it had quickly become a large part of what turned them into a cohesive unit, rather than a group of individuals with guns.

Shaking off his contemplative mood as the crush of people eased slightly, and surprised that he was so calm right then, Steve caught up with his mate. "You okay, Buck?"

"I'm steamed," Bucky gritted out between his teeth as they turned a corner and put themselves out of view of the crowd likely to gossip about them, "but I know yelling at him ain't gonna do a lick of good."

Making an impulsive decision, Steve stepped in front of Bucky, set his feet, and let Bucky collide with him. Bucky staggered with a surprised grunt, before Steve caught him and turned the gesture into a bear hug. "I know," he said quietly, daringly smoothing one of his hands up Bucky's neck and burying it in his hair, " _I know,_ Bucky."

Bucky's emotions all but tore through him, threatening to carry him away like a bobbing life raft caught in a riptide. Anger, worry, pain, fear, horror, all layered and tangled into an almost indecipherable mess.

It took a moment, but then Bucky's arms went around his waist tightly as his mated clung to him, a drowning man offered a Mae West. "I don't know what to do, Steve," he confessed. "I'm all off balance and it's making me..."

He let the words trail off, but Steve knew what he meant. He felt more than a bit wobbly himself. "It'll be okay. We'll put you next to him, you'll check him over yourself, and the pair of you will rest until we get to London."

Allowing himself a brief moment of weakness, Bucky let his head fall to Steve's shoulder. "But what if--"

"No," Steve forced his voice level and firm as he cut off Bucky's words. One of them had to keep the other on track, he reminded himself. They couldn't both be messes at the same time. "Don't worry about that right now. What has to happen is that you have to see him--"

Bucky lifted his head to glare at him as he interrupted Steve in turn. " _We._ "

Steve gave in. Bucky wasn't wrong on that score. "Alright, _we_ have to see Iron Man, and we have to get to London. Anything else, we'll deal with as it comes up. I'm sure Mr. Jarvis has already read him the riot act anyway."

Bucky took a shuddering breath and held it for a few seconds before pushing himself upright again with a sigh, making Steve let go of him. "You might be right about that. And don't think I didn't notice how wound up you are yourself, punk."

That was more like it. "Jerk."

It was a matter of a few more meters to the door of the onboard infirmary. They crossed the short distance without lingering further. Steve suspected Bucky was being driven onward by the need to touch Tony, much like he was. He'd have to hold back, and that would be difficult. Bucky had compared resisting the bond to fighting his own heart and mind earlier, and that was one of the most accurate comparisons Steve had yet heard. He'd felt that way watching Bucky and Tony practically fall into one anothers' arms after they'd broken Tony out of Donar, though he hadn't realised what he was feeling at the time.

Now, it would be infinitely worse, having known Tony's touches and caresses. His kisses and the way his voice hitched in the heat of his passion.

Steve bit at his lip. He needed to think about something else.

Before he could pick something suitably libido-quenching, they were through the infirmary door and Jarvis was waving them over. "Finally! Get your asses over here and tell this idiot he needs to take things easy for a few days."

Bucky's concern was almost palpable. "What happened, Jarvis? He hurt?"

Jarvis sniffed. "A few bad bruises to his left leg. Nothing deadly. But he needs to stay off it for at least three days. Three weeks would be better, but I know better than to try to take that hill. It wouldn't be worth the casualties."

Steve felt something deep in his gut, some knot of tension he'd barely noticed was still there, unwind a little. "We'll talk to him."

"Best you do more than that. Put him to bed and stay with him." Jarvis eyed him up and down once, critically, making Steve take a breath, ready to argue whatever was coming. "And I do mean both of you."

He let the air right back out and tried fruitlessly to find the right words to protest that.

"Shoulda known better than to expect you to pull your punches," Bucky grumbled. "So you've guessed. Who else has?"

"Yes, you should. The rest of your team and mine know." Jarvis let his expression show a hint of a smile. "Don't worry, we won't go spreading it around. But you might consider saying something to them about it nonetheless."

Steve groped around blindly for something to hold onto, and found himself with an arm around Bucky's waist. "I will," he managed to say, still a bit stunned.

"Go on," Jarvis added, pointing at the door to the small ward on the far side of the space. "Get him out of here. Been less than ten minutes and he's already driving me up a wall."

"Alright, alright." Bucky's arm, around his back, squeezed briefly. "You good, Steve?"

Forcing himself steady once more, Steve nodded. "More or less. It's been a long night."

"It's over now," Jarvis pointed out patiently, "get him out of my sight and go get some rest. We'll see to those POWs you boys pulled out of your asses."


	18. [Bucky POV]

Tony looked up warily when they stepped through the door, ready to argue with Jarvis some more, no doubt, then relaxed slightly once he recognised them. "Well, let's hear it," he said on a sigh. "I'm sure you both have something to say."

Bucky watched Steve fight to find something to say, and stepped in after a beat. "We do, but since Jarvis has clearly said it already, there's no need to rehash the discussion."

That statement got him a disbelieving look. "What? We're skipping to the next point on the agenda, then?" Tony quipped, apparently assuming they had something else to rail at him about.

"We are," Steve agreed. "Jarvis said we should put you to bed, so that's what we're going to do."

"Right," Bucky put in. "We don't wanna get ourselves in trouble with your team, either. So you're not gonna put up a fight, y'hear?"

Tony huffed at him, a disgruntled look on his face, now. "It's a _bruise_. I'm fine."

"It's bad enough that you have to rest or you'd be out of that cot already," Bucky riposted, knowing he'd strike true. "Let yourself recover, for God's sake, man. There's no emergency you're needed to deal with right now. All you have to do is let Pepper, Jarvis, and Rhodey fly us back to London."

"And does that mean I get you to myself for a few hours, Barnes?" Tony's voice held more than a little bit of speculation. Bucky knew that would sweeten the deal considerably.

Steve smiled ruefully and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Both of us. Jarvis has us dead to rights, apparently."

Tony groaned. "Guess we'll have to deal with that, too, once we're back on Terra Firma."

Chuckling at his exaggerated dismay, Bucky reached for his mated, prepared to simply lift him off the bed, then stopped short as a thought occurred to him. "Can you walk if I help, or should I just carry you off to bed?"

The question got him an expression of mingled interest and offense. "I'm no swooning dame for you to romance," Tony reminded them, a trifle waspish. "But much as I'm loathe to admit it, trying to walk would probably make these bruises worse. You up to it?"

"How do you want it? Piggy back? Over my shoulders? Bridal style?" Bucky leered at him. "Personally I like the sound of that last one the best."

"Every last one of those sounds utterly undignified," Tony grumbled.

Bucky suspected he'd have pouted if they weren't still in a semi-public space. "Well, if you'd rather, I'm sure we could find you a stretcher," he offered, fairly sure what the reply would be.

With another glare and a sniff, Tony said, "No, that won't be necessary. Come here. As my publicly known soulmate, you get the dubious honor of hauling me through my own airship like a sack of potatoes." 

"With pleasure, spud." Bucky teased him, just to watch him scowl, and gathered Tony up in his arms, bridal style, as he'd threatened. It took him a few seconds to find a position and way to hold Tony that was reasonably comfortable for both of them. The wings and tail got in the way more than a little bit, despite Tony's much improved control over them. "Heavier than you look," he commented with a smirk and squeezed Tony a little in approximation of a hug.

"I'll have you know that I've maintained my girlish figure for decades," Tony declared, making Jarvis snigger at him from the other room. "I don't appreciate being called 'spud'."

Steve shook his head mock sadly at their antics. "Alright, then, march," he prompted Bucky, and stepped back out into the infirmary's main room.

Bucky could read him well enough to know that Steve would lead the way and open whatever doors were necessary, doing what he could to make it look like he was just being helpful. Until they were safely in Tony's room, they needed to be circumspect enough not to start rumours. Tony's team and his own would have their backs, but the POWs had no such loyalties.

Rather than wait around and waste more time, Steve started walking and trusted that Bucky would take the hint to follow. Catching Tony's eyes and taking advantage of the relative privacy to drop a kiss on Tony's forehead just to watch Tony's eyes cross, he did. The jolt of mixed fondness and irritation he got from the brief bit of skin contact was enough to make him feel much the same. It was diametrically opposed to the way he'd felt walking into the infirmary, and he knew he'd have to deal with the aftereffects of that ricochet, but for now he was going to enjoy the much lighter feelings running through him. It was a welcome change from the worry and stress he'd felt before.

Somewhat to his amazement, they made it through the airship to Tony's rooms without running into too many people. Rhodey and Miss Danvers spotted them, as did Gabe and Monty, but that was the extent of it. Bucky was somewhat relieved that three of those four already knew about them, and would keep their mouths shut. Jarvis and Tony were entirely correct though. They'd have to talk to their respective teams -- be it separately or together -- soon. If only so that the lot of them knew what was alright to say, when they were asked. He had no doubt that Miss Danvers would quiz Rhodey about them until he talked.

"Here we are," Steve said with a distinct sense of relief underlying his tone as he opened Tony's door and held it, stepping to the side so Bucky could precede him through.

Bucky made sure Tony got through without hitting the doorframe then settled him carefully on his bed without bothering to turn down the covers. He eyed Tony critically. "You want that shirt off, Tony?" he offered, as Steve closed the door firmly behind them.

Rather than let either of them help, though, Tony pushed himself into a sitting position and started working the buttons open. "I swear, we've had this discussion. I have no desire to be treated like a wilting flower."

Bucky shrugged and let him deal with the bit of sturdy linen. Once he'd gotten it undone Tony all but yanked it off over his head and threw it into a corner of his room.

Steve picked it up and draped it over Tony's chair. "Reckon we should follow suit, Buck?" he suggested. "This uniform's getting to be more than a little bit constricting, anyway."

"Yeah, I think you might be onto something there, Steve." Bucky nodded, his expression as serious as he could make it, but Steve could easily read the laughter. He added, "Come help me out of mine? I think one of the zippers might be jammed."

Tony made a slightly strangled sound at the back of his throat. "I could help you with that, you know. My hands are fine."

"You're supposed to be resting," Steve reminded him airily as he took his shield and harness off his back, then worked himself out of his cowl and the armoured jacket he wore for missions. As he pulled it over his head and dropped it to the floor he said, disgusted, "That desperately needs cleaning."

Bucky raised an eyebrow at his oldest friend and soulmate, shedding his guns and ammunition in his turn. "Well, yeah. It does every time you go out. Mine's not in much better shape. If you wanted to, I'm sure Tony would let you use his bathroom to clean up a little."

"I probably should do so myself," Tony said on a sigh. "And I would, too, if I thought I could fit in the tiny excuse for a shower I have aboard ship."

"We could clean up, then give you a sponge bath," Bucky pointed out, stripping off his jacket and tossing it on top of Steve's.

"That'll only lead to activities that'd strain Tony's leg," Steve disagreed. "We'll get him what he needs to clean up and let him do it himself while we shower, if he's feeling up to it."

Leaning back against his headboard a trifle awkwardly and carefully tucking his wings out of the way, Tony nodded. "It'll be a lot less fun that way," he said, his tone disappointed. "I expect you to make it up to me at some point."

Steve thought that over for a couple of seconds as he undid his belt, which had so many heavy pouches dangling from it that it needed a pair of suspenders to hold it up. That joined the guns, shield, and uniform jackets with a thump. Bucky's gear was a little bit lighter on the other supplies but heavier on the ammunition, so his belt was just as loaded down. It made a loud clatter when he added it to the growing heap as the contents rattled around. 

"How about once we're back at your place in London?" Steve offered as he worked open the button and fly of his uniform pants, then slid them off his hips leaving himself in nothing but his skivvies. "Pretty sure we can find what we need there."

Bucky noted with amusement that Tony's eyes stayed glued to Steve's crotch for a long moment. In fact, he stared like that, obviously thinking about seducing them both and wishing he wasn't injured, until the muted thump of the armoured uniform pants falling on top of the pile of gear jolted him out of it.

It took a few more seconds before Tony distractedly replied, "I might not be quite recovered enough for what you have in mind that soon, but let's give it a try."

Bucky let his amusement show when Steve caught his eyes. Steve's expression said he felt just the same as Bucky did. That mix of fondness, exasperation, and disbelief that Tony always seemed to inspire. He stripped off his own pants and didn't bother holding back the groan of relief that caught in his throat. "Mmm, that's so much better."

Tony leered at him. "It'd be better still if you lost the underwear and joined me in bed."

"Give me five minutes," Bucky replied, and sauntered into the bathroom. "Steve, keep an eye on him while I shower off. I'll be right back."

Settling himself on the edge of the mattress at Tony's hip, Steve ran his fingers lightly up Tony's flank. "Don't worry about us," he replied. "We'll be just fine."

Bucky took that for the assurance it was and ducked into the bathroom, grabbing a spare hand towel to dry himself off with later, and starting the water in the -- admittedly tiny -- shower running. He eyed it, estimating its dimensions and trying to work out whether he'd be able to wash his hair without banging his elbows constantly, then shook his head at himself and decided to just go for it.

He more or less succeeded in his aim, despite the cramped nature of the space, then rinsed the suds back out of his hair and shut off the water. As he dried himself off Bucky took a moment to appreciate the fact that Tony even had a shower on his airship, no matter how small. That was a practically unheard of luxury. Even if he could tell already that Steve would have to really be careful to m fit in it at all with his ridiculously broad shoulders. He might have to stand diagonally if he wanted to do more than rinse the sweat off his skin.

Finished, Bucky eyed his underwear for a moment. He had no desire to put it back on over his clean skin.

To hell with it. No one was liable to see him except his soulmates. And even if someone else had entered the room in the few minutes he'd been getting cleaned up -- not that that was likely -- everyone on both their teams knew he was soulmated to Tony and had guessed that he was mated to Steve as well.

He stepped back out into the bedroom in the nude, and stopped short. It was his turn to stare fixedly. Steve had apparently taken 'keep an eye on Tony' to mean 'kiss Tony senseless', and Tony had clearly had no objections to that plan whatsoever. He was enthusiastically participating, in fact, his hands roaming all over the skin he could reach, touching, caressing, pinching, and occasionally leaving behind a few red lines with his blunt nails that faded even as Bucky watched. The sight sent a jolt of heat down his spine to fizz in the pit of his belly. Clearing his throat, he said, "Shower's all yours, if you want it, Steve."

Steve freed a hand long enough to acknowledge that he'd heard, and took his time wrapping up what he was doing. When he pulled back at last, Tony threw his head back, trying desperately to regulate his breathing.

"That make up for the lack of sponge bath?" Steve asked him, tone light.

Tony didn't bother to reply verbally, swatting at Steve's ass instead.

Bucky stepped over to him and tilted Tony's head up with a hand under his chin. "Steve, go shower. It's my turn."

"Yeah, Steve," Tony agreed. "Go clean up."

Laughing, Steve let him go, and stood. The bulge at the front of his boxers made for a very tempting target, but Bucky forced himself to refrain from pulling Steve in close until he could plaster their skin together from chest to hips and take Steve in hand.

Before he could stifle the want and need entirely, however, Tony reached for him, catching his hand, and pulled until Bucky had no choice but to join his mated on the bed. "Hmm," Tony hummed as contentment and satisfaction echoed like the vibrations of a rung bell between them, almost shivering through the air and their skin, "I didn't think it would be a turn on for me that you used my shampoo, but it kind of is."

"Turn on or not," Bucky told Tony -- and himself -- firmly, resisting the impulse to pin Tony to the bed and do just what Steve had been doing, "we're not doing more than sleeping before you've had a couple of days to rest that leg."

Huffing at him, Tony wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist and reeled him in until they were tangled comfortably together. "Don't blame me if I choose to take care of myself, then. Maybe while you two put on a show."

The sensation made Bucky clench his teeth against the shudder of need that went through him. That... was an interesting idea. It took some effort to hold himself back, but once he had a hold of himself Bucky gave his mated a chaste kiss instead. "We'll see. First we have to get back, and then deal with the debrief. But hopefully after that we'll have a few days to ourselves."

Tony eyed him suspiciously. "You didn't let someone replace you with a hunk of Living Marble or something, did you?"

"Living what? That exists?" Bucky asked, allowing himself to be distracted.

"It does, but that's entirely beside the point," Tony replied, continuing to do his best to instigate something more active than just the touching.

Faced with that, Bucky wound up pinning his mated to the bed by his hips, just to stop him from rubbing up against his belly and tempting him against all common sense. "Tony, no," he said, kissing his mated again. "You are the worst kind of temptation, but no. Jarvis will know and I do not want to get on his bad side, thanks."

"After Steve got me all riled up, you expect me to just ignore the problem and hope it goes away?" Tony asked him wryly. "I can assure you, that won't work."

Steve, who'd reentered the room just in time to hear the last sentence, laughed, getting their attention. "Well," he asked, "what's stopping you from taking care of that, then?"

"The pair of you," Tony grumbled, then blew out an irritated breath of air that wasn't quite a sigh. "Fine, we'll do this your way, Bucky, but it had better be worth it."

"It will," he promised, "I'll make sure you don't leave your bed for a full day, if you want. Steve will help."

Steve smirked and settled himself on the bed behind Bucky, draping an arm over Bucky's waist so that he could touch them both. "Now that sounds like a plan I can get behind."

The touch sent hints of worry and lust swirling through their collective bond, but for the most part, Steve was calm. Evidently the shower had settled him. Bucky suspected Steve had rubbed one out while he'd been in there. He'd taken a little bit longer cleaning up than he usually did in the field.

"Now shut your eyes and rest," Bucky told Tony, shoving away the mental image of Steve touching himself under the spray of warm water, his usual broad gestures constrained by the tiny space he was crammed into, before it started getting him wound up any further. "We'll wake you before we get to London."

"Mhmm," Steve agreed wordlessly, then added, "we have about four and a half hours. That's enough time to actually get some sleep in before we moor."

Tony rolled his eyes at them, but didn't protest any further.

Sometime after that, Bucky wasn't sure how long, sleep pulled him under and he didn't rouse until someone knocked at the door.

Tony only roused halfway. Just enough to call, "Who's there?"

"It's me, Boss," Rhodey's voice sounded, "breakfast is in fifteen, and we moor soon after. If you want anything to eat before the ravenous hordes descend upon it, I suggest you get out of bed."

With a groan, Tony started carefully disentangling himself from him and from Steve. Bucky helped, pushing himself up and taking most of Steve's weight with him, so that Tony could roll onto his side. It took some slow careful maneuvering for him to get to a sitting position. Before Tony could take it into his head to get to his feet, Steve roused and stood, stretching until his fingertips brushed the ceiling of the room, then put his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Stay there a moment. You need a change of clothes?"

Tony considered that. "Probably, but it's not really worth the effort, right now. I'll wait until I'm back at my house for that."

Bucky stretched, working a couple of kinks out of his spine, and stifled a yawn. "Sounds like a plan to me. A long soak'd be good for you."

"Hmph. Breakfast first," Tony decided. "I need some coffee."

"Okay, then. On your feet," Steve said and helped him stand, then steadied him once he was there.


	19. [Tony POV]

Rhodey had been entirely correct about the ravenous hordes, as it turned out. Even as relatively timely as they'd been, they'd had to fight to get the last of the food that had been set out. Steve had trailed along behind them as Bucky helped him into the galley, and people had made space for them at the table. That respect hadn't extended to the food, though. Tony couldn't find it in him to blame any of them, either. This was likely the first civilised breakfast any of them had seen in literally weeks or months. It was entirely unsurprising that all of them would fall on it like a swarm of locusts.

Once he'd been settled, Rhodey had handed him a plate of food, and silverware. "Sleep well, Boss?"

"Tolerably," Tony agreed, taking bites of his food as he spoke. "What's the word from London?"

"We're to moor and wait for the higher-ups to come aboard. They want to talk to our rescued POWs before we turn them loose on British soil, and we're debriefing once that's done," Rhodey reported with a crooked smile. "Might take a while."

Steve nodded. "With this many people, it definitely will. I reckon they'll do it in groups."

Bucky stole a slice of toast of Tony's plate, broke it in half and took a bite out of one piece. The rest he offered to Tony. "We got nothing better to do, so at least it's a chance for Tony to rest a little more," he said.

Making a face at his overprotective mated, Tony grumbled a few curses under his breath and changed the topic. "And on the subject of talking with our rescues," he said a trifle archly, leaning one elbow on the table and his chin in his hand, "have you gotten to know the lovely Miss Danvers a little better?"

Rhodey looked like he wanted to roll his eyes. "We've talked a little, yeah. Bit too soon for anything more. I'd rather spend a little more time with Carol before taking things any further."

Steve looked up at something behind him, and Tony grinned at his friend, sure the lady in question was behind him. "You were ever the romantic," he teased Rhodey a little more.

Miss Danvers jumped in, "Be that as it may, it's nice. You leave him alone, Stark."

"Aw, it's alright, Carol. He's a big softie," Rhodey teased him right back. "You should see him moon over his own soulmate. It's like going to the pictures. You think you're drowning in sap."

Bucky laughed. "You going to stay on with us, then, Miss Danvers?"

"I... I hadn't decided," Miss Danvers eyed Tony speculatively as he took another bite of his eggs. "It seemed a bit presumptuous to choose a tack without at least speaking to the captain of the ship."

Everyone turned to him, including the POWs still in the galley who were intently listening in, and Tony shrugged. "I don't want to lose a close friend and excellent pilot to a sabbatical at a critical moment like this, and I'm not against it," he said carefully, "but I don't know you at all, Miss Danvers. Are you prepared to help me remedy that?"

"Suppose I could be persuaded," she replied, just as carefully. "But I'd have to insist on reciprocity. You're explaining exactly what you mean by critical, or I'm putting my foot down."

Rhodey relaxed.

"You might be surprised at what lurks under the surface," Steve put in with a grin. "Explaining what's so critical... we'll do that once we have a little more privacy."

Bucky stood and picked up Tony's now mostly empty plate. "Debrief comes first, annoying as they are."

Tony sighed. "At least I don't have to try to find a way across town in broad daylight, this time."

"Why are you half bird anyway?" Miss Danvers demanded. "That's got to be recent."

Rhodey gave her a slightly pained look. "That's part of what's critical. But yeah, it's recent."

With perfect timing, Jarvis appeared to poke his head through the door. "We're arriving in under five minutes. Those who need to, should get their things ready and prepare for debriefing. Agent Carter, Colonel Phillips, and Director Fury are waiting for us at the airfield, and will board as soon as we're moored."

That sparked a flurry of activity and swearing all around them. Tony grinned. No amount of preparation was enough to be entirely proof against Hurricane Carter, but they'd learn that soon enough.

For his part, Tony hobbled back to his cabin with Bucky's help, and stayed there, sitting at his desk with his chair turned backwards and writing in his journal, until the brass was through interrogating the POWs and comparing notes about three hours later. Jarvis, smart man that he was, had had some appropriate food brought aboard for their officers' lunch.

The debrief was uneventful, too, and they found out from their joint COs that the Allied assault on the base had been successful primarily because of their demolition of the power plant. The distraction had been enough of an opening that the Allied troops had been able to grab a fairly large foothold, and from there they'd systematically taken the base, building by building. Peggy had looked supremely amused when she'd informed them that the reports from the troops storming the base had clearly shown which buildings their little strike force had been through.

Fury had spent most of his time smoking and trying to pry additional details out of Steve. Phillips had done much the same to him, to Tony's amusement.

Then the three of them were leaving, evidently satisfied and the airship felt suddenly empty, absurd as that was when his team and Steve's were both still aboard.

"Tony?" Steve broke into his thoughts.

"What is it?" Tony brought his focus back to the here-and-now.

"Jarvis had a point about telling our teams about us," Bucky took up the thread. "But we need to decide what to say."

With a shrug, Tony suggested, "The truth? If they've already guessed, they won't accept any less."

Steve made a face at him. "Thought that was obvious. How should we say it, though? It affects you the most, being in the public eye as much as you are."

"As long as no one goes and flaps their gums about it public, it really doesn't matter, and I think I can count on both our teams not to do that." He said, making Steve shake his head with a smile.

"Then we might as well get it over with," Bucky said taking a breath like he was about to dive into deep water, and Tony realised the pair of them were nervous.

"It'll be fine, don't you worry," Tony said, then started picking himself carefully up out of his chair. "Come on, help me up and call your team into the galley. We can deal with mine after."

Steve was there almost before he'd finished the first sentence, putting his hands on Tony's hips to steady him, then looping Tony's arm over his shoulders. "I sure hope you're right." 

Half of Steve's team was already there when they got to the galley, and immediately guessed that something was up.

"Something wrong, Captain?" Falsworth asked him.

"Something to tell the team," Steve replied, not really answering the question.

Tony could tell that Falsworth saw right through the tactic, by the sardonic smile on the Brit's face. Dugan huffed, looking like he suspected what was coming. Morita simply leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms.

After a beat Dugan stood, leaned out into the corridor, and yelled, "Dernier, Jonesy, get in here!"

Bucky rolled his eyes at Dugan when he reclaimed his seat, but didn't comment.

A few seconds later, the remaining two of Steve's Commandos strolled in. "So what's going on?" Jones asked them as he came through the door, preceding Dernier.

"Captain's got something he wants to say," Dugan answered.

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly and hesitated. Tony picked that moment to jump in, ignoring the knowing looks he got. "We are gathered here today," he opened, getting appreciative chuckles from the team, "to openly acknowledge something that seems to be rumoured among you. Jarvis copped to the fact that most if not all of you suspect Bucky and I have a friendlier relationship with the good Captain than would generally be acceptable to the public. That much is definitely true. What I'm not sure anyone's guessed is that it goes a little farther than that."

"Farther how?" Falsworth asked.

"We're a triad," Tony told him bluntly. "Took us a while to get used to the idea ourselves, given none of us realised that was even possible. So we didn't want to just announce it to all and sundry. And we still don't. So keep it behind your teeth. We don't care if you talk about it on the airship or at my place, but anywhere else we can't guarantee the walls won't have ears."

The five Howlies exchanged looks and shrugs. Morita was the one to speak up. "That explains a lot," he said simply.

"And if we're asked, what should we say?" Dugan wanted to know.

"As little as you can get away with," Bucky suggested. "But if you have to say somethin', I guess, tell them about me an' Tony. The brass knows that much already, and the rest of the world will figure us out soon enough."

Gabe raised an eyebrow at them. "You won't be able to hide it from Carter forever."

"We don't intend to," Steve told him. "But we wanted to let things between us stabilise a little, first, before we add that bit of stress to things. Once the brass knows Buck and I are also mated, they'll start pushing to split up the unit."

They got a series of indignant looks from everyone in the room.

"Ain't a man among us, wants that," Bucky added.

"No indeed," Falsworth agreed. "Luckily, we all know how to keep a secret, don't we, gents."

And that was that. The conversation with his own team went similarly -- albeit with a bit more yelling because Pepper was upset about being kept in the dark -- and then everyone was informed. Of course, Jarvis got the last word in, telling Steve to put him back to bed and ignoring all of Tony's protests.

Tony felt Steve breathe a sigh of relief, for all that it was communicated in body language rather than voice, and then he was being hauled around like a sack of potatoes again. Pepper laughed outright at his affronted expression.

Protesting wasn't worth the effort required, though. He got to be in Steve's arms -- which was always a nice place to be, frankly -- and no one aboard would give them a second glance anymore, now that they'd revealed Steve was mated to both of them, rather than just so close to both of them that it was flirting with socially unacceptable.

Tony intended to take advantage of that. The airship was a little haven of unobserved peace for the three of them, much like Tony's house. Problem was, Steve and Bucky, as part of the Commandos, were obligated to stay in their barracks a majority of the time. Tony was fairly sure he could argue the brass into letting Bucky stay with him, but trying to get them to allow Steve to join them might well be a lost cause. What he might do, if he could convince Jarvis it was a good idea, was house the entire team of Howlies in his townhouse. Now that everyone on both teams knew their little secret, there was nothing left that they had to hide from those five, and he didn't think they'd mind too much. The question was where to put all of them if he tried that. The house was a reasonable size, but it didn't have five bedrooms.

The other alternative would be for him to join the Commandos in their barracks near SHIELD HQ, but that would lead to all manner of rumours that they didn't need and result in his comings and goings being gossip fodder.

It was a question that he'd need to mull over further to answer, he decided as Steve opened the door of his room and carried him through to the bed. Bucky followed them and shut the door.

"So," he said brightly, watching them, "what now?"

Steve caught Tony's eyes and smirked, an expression with more than a hint of devilish intent behind it. "Well, Buck, we could have a bit of fun," he offered.

"You have something specific in mind?" Tony asked, sounding caught between trepidation and interest.

"I was thinking one of us could pin down that injured leg of yours, so you can't move it, while the other drives you to the point of mindlessness," Steve replied, sounding like he was stating the weather, but with enough glee in his eyes to belie any façade he might put on.

Tony couldn't help the strangled sound that he made. He cleared his throat. "Wow, okay. That... that is definitely something specific."

"Sounds like fun to me," Bucky put in. "You in, Tony?"

Sure this would be enough fun that he'd want to remember it, Tony nodded, "Why not. Who gets which role?"

"We'll switch off," Steve decided. "Buck, what's your preference?"

Bucky smiled, wide and edged. "I want to see you wreck him, Steve, so I'll hold him down for now, and then finish him off if he doesn't come before you're done exploring." Suiting actions to words, Bucky wasted no time. He grabbed for Tony's knee and ankle, his grip secure and firm but not tight, and then brought most of his bodyweight to bear when Tony jerked, startled by the sudden touch. "He's all yours."

Steve didn't hesitate. He reached for the buttons on Tony's shirt and started undoing them, then followed that up by slipping Tony's suspenders off over his shoulders. In less than a minute he had Tony's shirt hanging open at his sides and was running his hands all over the bared skin of Tony's torso.

The want, relief, and affection that poured through him when Steve's hands landed on his skin, entirely drowning out the lingering pain and soreness of the bruising, were already enough to make him try to grind his hips against Steve, looking for touch.

Bucky was having none of that, though. He kept Tony's leg pinned to the bed, as promised.

He wasn't hard yet, but with this kind of stimulation it wouldn't take much to get him there, and both of his mates knew it. Tony could see it in Steve's pleased smirk and Bucky's leer.

Once Steve was through using his hands to touch, he followed it up with his lips and tongue. "Damn, Tony," he murmured into the skin of Tony's belly, "you smell amazing."

Bucky put in, "It's almost enough to make your mouth water, isn't it. Like someone somewhere made him just for us and did it so well it's like we just want to eat him up with a spoon. Better than dessert."

"I don't," Tony started, then broke off when Steve nodded, rubbing his nose against the skin at the cut of Tony's hip, and hummed an affirmative. "I don't know what desserts you've been eating, Bucky, but I'm pretty sure that's false."

"No arguin' taste, Tony," Bucky reminded him, "an' mine says you trump everything."

Tony would have replied, but Steve derailed his train of thought by undoing the button and fly of his pants and reaching in to take him in hand. The emotions running through him intensified a notch, the need and want pouring through him and back to Steve in a complex feedback loop that didn't want to die down. 

And then Steve leaned in to take him in his mouth, holding Tony's eyes the whole time.

That move drew a long low groan out of Tony and made him attempt to get free of Bucky's hold, and to hell with the bruises. He needed _more_ and he needed it _now_. "Steve," he managed to gasp out, "oh my God."

Both of his mates chuckled at him, which was just unfair. Steve's amusement sent strong vibrations through him that turned into shivers running up and down his spine and made him writhe as best he could in an attempt to convince Steve to _touch_ him. Any way, anyhow. He wasn't picky just now.

The edge was drawing closer and closer with each small movement and sound Steve made, until, just before he thought he might come, Steve pulled back and off him.

Bucky caught Steve's eyes, and asked, "Switch?"

"But I wasn't done," Steve protested, looking petulant, and Tony belatedly realised Bucky had prompted him to pull off like that.

"Too bad. I want a turn," Bucky told him, and stared Steve down until he gave in with a growl. 

"Fine," Steve replied, sitting back on his haunches to give Bucky enough room to trade places with him, "but you're making it up to me later."

In the space before Bucky applied himself to what he wanted, he shrugged and said, "Later, sure. I'll make sure you see stars."

Tony had just enough time to draw a slightly shaky breath before a new assault on his senses began.


	20. [Steve POV]

It had taken Tony a couple of hours to recover after he and Bucky were finished driving him wild, which made Steve want to smirk smugly every time he thought about it. He'd held back, though. Eventually, he'd had to go in search of something to eat, and found nearly everyone else aboard gathered in the galley.

From the moment he'd stepped through the door, their respective teams had watched him like hawks, clearly wondering whether they could rib him about his newly-revealed soulmates. Well, more accurately, his team and Jarvis had. Pepper and Rhodey weren't there to put in their two cents, and Steve was somewhat relieved about that. He was sure he'd have to deal with them later.

In the end it had been Dugan who'd given him a speculative look as he plated up some food, and asked, "Guess they're worth keeping to yourself, then, huh?"

Jarvis had caught Dugan's eye and shot back, "Jealous, Dugan?"

"Hell yeah, I'm jealous; Cap has all the luck. I'd like a millionaire soulmate with armour that flies and a dead-eye sniper to back me up," Dugan had said with a grin.

It had broken the ice entirely. The rest of the Howlies had exchanged grins and chuckles, and Jarvis had shrugged, appeased.

Steve and Bucky had decided to hang around until dark and accompany Tony home. Their respective teams -- save Rhodey, who'd followed his Miss Danvers offship to do something or other -- had stayed aboard the airship to wait out the rest of the afternoon with them, albeit without bothering to inform their captains about it.

Steve found he wasn't too upset about that. Picking up his meal and carrying it to the table, he gave Dugan a mild look and added, taking a sip of his glass of water, "They're far more than that, Dugan."

Morita gave him a sly look. "Good in bed too, I'd wager," he commented.

Steve choked on his mouthful of water, feeling himself go red up to his hairline. 

His team broke into peals of laughter.

"Oh, look at him," Monty said with relish, " _look_. How fetching. He nearly matches his field uniform."

Dugan cackled. "So we need to embarrass him before we go out in the field? Get him glowing so bright he attracts even more fire?"

Morita shook his head. "Nah, the Sarge will find a way to get you back for that. Stark might help him."

Gabe, wiping at his eyes and leaning hard on Dernier's shoulder as he fought to catch his breath, put in, "We, hoo boy, we should save that for quieter days. Quality entertainment, right there."

Then Dernier patted Steve's shoulder, mock-consolingly. "Tu as leur aide, tu n'as pas besoin de la nôtre," he said, his tone matter-of-fact and expression deadpan as could be, despite the whopper that was coming out of his mouth.

Steve hid his face in his hands with a groan, only daring to show that much emotion because this was his team, and they had his back. "Forget Tony and Bucky, I'll get my revenge _myself_ ," he grumbled. "If we weren't planning to try to smoke out Zemo and Strucker soon, I'd just have you all doing drills for a week."

"Oh?" Jarvis asked, clearly fishing for information, "Are you going to read us in on this plan of yours, soon, then?"

"Well, you already heard the bones of it at the Peenemünde mission briefing. Tony wants to use himself as bait," Steve said and sighed. "I don't like it, but it's relatively low risk and has a good chance of working."

Jarvis visibly chewed on that for a few seconds. While he did, the rest of his team gradually sobered, and focused in on him.

"Okay, talk," Gabe demanded. "Details."

Rubbing at the back of his neck and taking another sip of his water while it was safe to, buying himself a moment to get his own composure back a little, Steve shrugged. "I don't have many of them to give you. Tony's the mastermind behind this one, and all he's told me is what we all heard at that briefing. He wants to talk to the press about his new appearance and use that to control the gossip a bit. Give him the freedom to go outside in public again if needed. And also use the headlines as a bit of a red flag."

"I see what you mean, Captain," Jarvis replied, "that's not much to go on, but solid as far as it goes. I'd better go haul him out of bed so we can quiz him properly."

Morita laughed. "Knock first," he suggested as Jarvis stood and turned for the door. "And bring the Sarge, too."

Jarvis huffed, amused. "I doubt I could convince Barnes to stay behind."

"Probably not," Monty agreed. "The good Sergeant has been very _attached_ to Stark right from the start."

An expectant silence fell over the group and Steve was very tempted to sigh; it took effort and will to hold back. Instead, he applied himself to his food, reasoning that now was likely going to be the only calm moment in which he could actually eat any of it. Taking advantage of any mercy his team showed him was probably going to become a standard tactic of his, Steve thought, with a mix of chagrin and resignation.

Could be worse.

He did have Bucky and Tony at his back, and that was worth any amount of ribbing.

It took Jarvis just under ten minutes to come back, and in that time Steve nearly succeeded in clearing his plate. When the grizzled medic re-entered the galley with Bucky following him, Tony draped over one shoulder and limping determinedly along but staying stubbornly upright, Steve's hands twitched as he fought not to jump up and sweep Tony back off his feet.

"Ah, there you are, Stark," Monty greeted him. "Have a seat and tell us about this hairbrained plan of yours."

Tony eyed him suspiciously. "Plan?" he asked mildly, "I _planned_ to spend the day in bed, thanks."

Damn it.

The broad knowing smirks on every face must have clued Tony in. He rolled his eyes at them. "Oh for-- That's not what I meant, but I'll never convince you otherwise, so I'm not going to bother trying."

Jarvis cleared his throat. "The plan in question, old friend, is the one that you are concocting to to draw out Zemo and Strucker," he said, giving the Howlies a quelling look as he pulled the discussion back on track.

Steve gratefully lent the man his support before anyone else could interject. "We all know you want to talk to the 'papers," he said, "you told us as much. But we need to plan out our approach a bit more before you do that, so we can respond appropriately when and if they do show their faces."

The statement got a nod from Tony, who continued eyeing the still-grinning Howlies in suspicion. "You have a point," he conceded, then, in an unexpected move, he turned the question back on Steve. "What would you do, then?"

Steve blinked at him for a moment, along with everyone else, then pulled himself together enough to reply. "Talk to the reporters, as you wanted to, with backup -- take Jarvis or Pepper -- and tell them you'll be at home for a few days, recovering. Whatever. Make some excuse to be in your house. Invite your opponent to come to you, where you have the advantage of knowing your environment and being able to control it."

"Solid logic. Got anything to add, Bucky?" Tony gave their mated a half-smile, clearly expecting some protective comment to get voiced.

Bucky shook his head. "Long as I get to help, I don't really much care how. You know what I'm good at. Take advantage of that."

Gabe nodded. "We're in."

"Tuer HYDRA est la seule chose dans notre description de travail." Dernier added.

"I don't have the spare bedrooms to put all of you up at the same time," Tony told them. "Work out a rotation or something. I only have enough space for two."

Morita sniffed at him. "Stark, if you think we're not used to sleeping on far worse than a floor, you've got another think coming. We'll work it out. Just make sure we have enough blankets and towels or tell us if we need to bring our own."

"Just bring your camping supplies, then," Tony suggested. "Simpler that way. No need to make this complicated."

"Oh, and Stark?" Dugan's expression was positively devilish. Steve could tell that Tony saw it and read the danger signs, but manners forced him to answer.

"Yeah?" Tony's voice was more resigned than it would have needed to be had the question not been so heavily loaded it creaked under the strain.

"Try not to keep the Cap and Sarge awake all night, yeah? They need their beauty sleep."

Steve groaned and covered his face again. This was going to be a goddamn train wreck. Luckily for him, though, he had Bucky.

Without missing a beat, Bucky riposted, "You need it more than either of us, Dugan. We're pretty enough that we can afford to lose a few winks here and there."

Tony wrenched the discussion back on track by adding, "If you're serious about helping out on this, go get your stuff together. We're leaving the airfield in an hour or so, if I can get everything organized. Jarvis?"

"What is it?" Jarvis looked a trifle wary.

"We should get the Commandos off the airfield and en route to my house first, then have our talk with the representatives of the papers who've come here. They love to skulk around the airfield exits."

Jarvis nodded slowly. "If the Commandos are already en route to your house they'll be in position to keep an eye on things there. That's not a bad idea."

Bucky scowled. "That better not include me or Steve."

"It does," Tony replied. "You have to stay out of the limelight or your little covert ops team goes up in smoke. It's bad enough that Rogers did so much touring for those damned bond sales. And I'll have Jarvis and Pepper with me, besides."

"Then we're waiting for you somewhere nearby," Bucky tried to insist.

Steve decided it was time to step in; letting this continue would only end in a fight and both of his mates would be upset about that. Knowing he sounded more than a little bit resigned and irritated, he said, "Buck, let it go. He's right. We need to let him do the talking this time." He turned to Tony, and added, "If we don't hear from you in the first hour or so after we leave the airfield, we're coming back here."

Tony stared him down for a moment, clearly weighing the pros and cons of agreeing, then nodded. "Fine. Just don't come barging into the conversation if I'm still stuck in a crowd of news men."

"Noted." That was a stipulation Steve could accept. He'd be in range to intervene if he had to, once he had eyes on Tony.

Satisfied, Jarvis stood up and started chivvying the Commandos to their feet. "Pick up your feet, then," he grumbled at them. "We haven't got all night."

Reluctantly, Bucky accepted that, and got to his feet. Steve could feel the frustrated protectiveness radiating off him. Before Bucky left the room Steve put a hand on his old friend's shoulder, offering what comfort he could.

Everyone but Steve filed out of the room, leaving him sitting at the long table with Tony leaning a hip against the end of it. Tony looked at him and their eyes locked.

"He's on edge over something isn't he?" Tony asked quietly. He didn't need to specify who he meant.

That... he hadn't considered that aspect of the situation. Steve nodded, "I have no idea what. Maybe he doesn't either."

"You need to pack anything?"

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. "Our shaving kits and pyjamas are still at your place," he pointed out.

Tony chuckled. "Okay, I'll take that as a 'no'."

He debated for a while before voicing his other concern. "You're still hurting. Will you be fine standing for that long?"

Tony gave him a long level look. "I've been taking care of myself after expeditions for decades, Steve," he said, his tone flat and very firm. "I know my limits, and when it's worth pushing past them. And when it isn't. I've also been dealing with the press for decades. I am painfully well aware of how they scrutinise and overanalyse every detail of your appearance and bearing. I have no intention of falling on my ass in front of some idiot with a camera."

Well, that was a very polite way of telling him where to shove it. Steve smiled a bit ruefully, then fired back in kind. "Point taken. But you have to remember, Tony, when we found you, you'd just been tortured by Strucker and Zemo for some unknown length of time and you were a mess. And here you are, a few days later, injured again. Buck and I, we've had each other's backs for years. And now that extends to yours as well. And if you think the Howlies aren't going to look out for you, you're delusional. They like you."

Letting his head fall back until he could address the ceiling Tony grumbled. "Is this my penance for all those years Jarvis yelled at me?"

Steve snorted and offered a hand. "I know you'll be fine," he told Tony. "I know you've likely had far worse injuries and dealt with those. But this is new to me. New to all three of us, I'd wager. Give us a chance to learn how to deal with it, too."

"I suppose that's fair." Tony took his hand, and Steve felt the contact soothe them both, despite the very similar emotions coming from both of them. It was paradoxical, but knowing Tony felt the same way he did about the whole situation was kind of reassuring.

They stayed like that until Jarvis peered back into the room. "Captain," he said, "your team's waiting for you before they disembark. Barnes seems to feel that unless he has eyes on you, you'll end up in trouble, and the others aren't disagreeing."

Steve rolled his eyes and stood. "Guess that's my cue," he told Tony, dropped a kiss on his mated’s forehead, and left the galley, ignoring Tony's embarrassed sputtering and Jarvis' chuckles, with a fond smirk tugging at his expression.

It took him less than a minute to get to his team, clustered as they were by the gangway. "There he is," Morita exclaimed. "Said your goodbyes?"

Knowing damned well what was implied there, Steve decided to dodge the question. "Everyone ready to go?"

Bucky caught his eyes and grinned. "We're good. Come on. Before I change my mind after all."

"Right, let's go, team." Tossing an arm over his friend's shoulder, Steve steered him toward the gangway and of the airship, riding out the slight wobble in his balance as his feet hit the relatively solid ground of the mooring tower's steel stairwell. "Anyone give Rhodes a call? We'll need someone to let us into the house."

Monty spoke up. "Don't you worry, Captain, Mr. Jarvis took care of it. We have a vehicle waiting on ground level, too."

Almost before he knew it, they were jumping down off their transport onto Tony's doorstep and Rhodey was there with his mated to open the gates for them. "So," he quipped, "the prodigal team returns. Where's Mr. Stark?"

"He, Mr. Jarvis and Pepper decided to speak with the papers as they leave the airfield. If we don't hear from them in an hour we're going back for them," Steve informed Tony's pilot.

Miss Danvers snorted at him. "I doubt that level of caution is necessary."

Faced with the prospect of having the same discussion _again_ , Steve decided to head things off at the pass. "I'm well aware of that, Miss. I've had this very discussion with Mr. Stark, in fact. But if there's one thing I've learned since I joined the military, it's that being a bit over-prepared is far better than the opposite."

She gave him a crooked smile. "Very well. Dinner's cooled, meantime, but you're welcome to whatever's in the kitchen. It's not much, but all it needs is some heating up."

With that, Miss Danvers turned on her heel and disappeared back into the house, as though she owned it. Rhodey stared after her with a star-struck look.

Gabe snickered at him. "You picked a fine dame, there, man."

"I didn't pick her, but I'm sure as hell not saying no," Rhodey parried as he led them through the front door. "Didn't really understand what the fuss was about until now, but, wow. It's a rush, knowing someone is meant for you on every level, and feelin' it too."

Steve turned to Bucky just in time to see his mated hide an amused expression. It wasn't much. A hint of a twinkle in his eyes and a subtle quirk of his lips. But it was there, and screamed _'yes, I know just what you mean'_ louder than words ever could have. Steve had to agree. Without a word, he reached out to twine their fingers together as they walked, and got a fondly indulgent huff from Dernier and Morita, who'd ended up being the only ones behind them.

The rush of warm affection and longing that washed over him at the touch sent a sweet pang through him, and he squeezed Bucky's fingers. The move got him a sappy smile and Morita grumbled something under his breath about idiots and lovebirds. He and Bucky both treated the comment as though it had gone unheard.

Before Morita could comment on that, luckily, the door shut behind them and the beginnings of a squabble over the leftover food became audible.

Steve was glad he'd decided to eat aboard the airship. "Hungry, Buck?"

"Not right now," Bucky replied, though Steve could feel the hint of hunger that underlay the affection coming from his mated.

"Then let's go monopolise Tony's bedroom for now. Let the others have the sitting room if they want it," he suggested.

"Might as well be comfortable while we wait," Bucky agreed.


	21. [Bucky POV]

The evening after Tony's chat with the news men had been quiet where their plan to lure out their enemies was concerned. It was far less calm on a personal level.

The three of them had spent their time in Tony's workshop, and Bucky had watched Steve do his best not to mother Tony while their mated worked on something to do with that plate over his heart and the orichalcum artifact they'd retrieved.

It was obvious that Steve's attempt to hold himself back had only halfway worked, but Tony hadn't put up too much of a fuss, so at least the pair of them didn't get into an argument over it.

Bucky suspected the pair of them had actually talked and managed to set some boundaries, while he wasn't around. It was simultaneously a relief and kind of annoying. A relief because they weren't going to cause a blow up. Annoying because he didn't know where those boundaries were.

It took him several hours, but eventually Tony stood and stretched, shaking out his wrists. "Which one of you two has steadier hands?" he asked.

Steve gave him the stink eye, suspicious. "Probably Bucky. Why do you ask?"

"Need some help replacing a power source," Tony told them, sounding entirely calm about it, despite having implied that it was a very delicate task. "I'd do it myself, but the angle is too awkward. I can't reach."

Gamely, Bucky walked over to him, stepping in close enough that he could catch Tony's eyes and hold them, without Steve interfering. "Tony," he said quiet, level, and calm, but with a note of warning in his voice, "you're gonna havta give me a lot more to go on than that before I agree to whatever crazy scheme you've cooked up, now."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't protest further. "I want to take a sliver of the orichalcum and put it between the battery of my repulsor pump and the device itself. Almost completely eliminate any need to recharge it. My calculations say I'd have to charge it about once a year, or even less often after the upgrade."

The idea sent a visceral shudder of mingled horror and aversion through Bucky, and he swallowed hard. "Just how risky is this?" he demanded, hearing his voice shake a little. Steve, obviously able to read his tension clearly, stepped up behind him and wrapped his arms around Bucky's waist, shoring him up.

"Not very," Tony reassured him, putting a hand on his jaw and letting him feel the confidence his mated had, both in him and in his own invention, "but you will have to disconnect the battery entirely to put in the orichalcum."

"You got a model or somethin'?" Bucky asked him, reassured somewhat by Tony's lack of apprehension. "I wanna know what I'm doin' before I try this."

Tony smiled. "Not yet, but I can throw one together. I have spares of the relevant pieces."

True to his word, about ten minutes later, Tony had cobbled together what he needed. It looked absolutely terrifying to Bucky with its tangle of wires and esoteric components, but he was all in favor of an upgrade that would keep Tony safer. 

"Alright," Tony told him, "that should do it."

Bucky stared down at the device on the workbench and did his best to force his nerves aside. The thing looked identical to the plate in Tony's chest, and that was a thought that made him vaguely nauseous. He did _not_ like the idea that his mated was asking him to literally open him up, and disconnect the thing keeping him alive.

The idea was making his -- usually steady -- hands shake.

Tony undid the closure holding the cover shut and pointed to a small glowing capsule partially hidden behind the tangle of wires, then started explaining. "That is the current regulator as it is now. It takes the power the battery provides and smooths it out so that it doesn't start out high when the battery has a full charge and then drop as the battery runs down. It's held in place with a few mechanical latches that engage at either end. You need to disengage the latches, switch out the components, then re-engage the latches. There's also a series of capacitors in the full scale device that will keep it running for a couple of minutes if the regulator needs to be replaced."

It took him a couple of fumbling tries to get it right, and Bucky was glad he'd insisted Tony show him how to do this. Dealing with that tangle of wires was harder than it looked.

When Tony deemed him ready to try the real thing, Bucky had to close his eyes and try to center himself. Intellectually he knew Tony had failsafes built in. But this was probably going to give him nightmares for a week anyway.

It was unlikely that anything would go wrong, but if it did...

"Hey," Tony's hand landed on his jaw again, and his mated leaned in to steal a kiss, "shhh. Deep slow breath, come on. I'll be fine. I've covered every possible angle, and a few impossible ones."

Steve huffed at him. "That is not the point, Tony."

It took him another few seconds to calm himself down, again, and then Tony was shirtless and carefully arranging himself on a clear worktable.

Actually following through was the worst kind of stressful. He had to fight the knowledge that Tony was exposed, _vulnerable_ , and very literally putting his life in his hands. Bucky gingerly went through the motions he'd practiced, undoing the closures of cover plate without opening it up yet, and doing his damnedest not to think about anything but the next step in the sequence. Not to focus on the fact that the metal was blood warm. Not to consider the fact that if he fucked this up Tony could die. Not to--

Physically swallowing back the lump in his throat, Bucky forced himself into motion. Tony was waiting patiently for now, but that wouldn't last forever.

Open the cover, carefully lift the tangle of wires out of the way, undo the latches at either end of the regulator. Slowly, gingerly, careful not to damage it in case they needed it again in a hurry, remove the regulator and slot the new component in place. Replace the latches securing it, and let the wires fall back into place. Pull his hand back out of his mated's chest cavity.

"Tony? Do me a favor and don't ever ask me to do that again," Bucky gritted out between his teeth as he watched his mated close up and latch the outer cover.

Steve pulled him in close and held him while he all but shook apart in reaction.

"You won't have to. No one will," Tony grinned at him, irrepressible. "Not for a long, long time, anyway."

That night Bucky wrapped himself tightly around his mated and didn't let go. Tony, surprisingly, allowed it, running his fingers through Bucky's hair in an attempt to offer comfort.

The following morning and afternoon had thankfully been much less stressful. Tony had taken the opportunity to take himself down to his workshop and work on his new armour for a while, doing things Bucky couldn't quite decipher from his position with Steve. They were on the opposite end of the large space from Tony, seated at a nearby drafting table. Steve had spent some time sketching.

The rest of the Howlies were prowling around the house and grounds in small groups, like caged cats.

"You're faraway, Buck," Steve commented, breaking into his thoughts.

He shrugged. "It's too quiet."

"I know what you mean," Steve replied, a half-smile on his face. "We're expecting trouble. Doesn't mean we're going to get it, but we'll be on edge for a while anyway."

"I'm surprised the others haven't started gambling to keep their minds off it," Bucky muttered.

"Given what happened last time, I told them one of us had to be in the room or they'd be peeling potatoes for a week," Steve told him with a chuckle, picking his pencil back up.

Bucky risked a glance at whatever it was Steve had been working on and had to bite his lip. An image was starting to take shape under Steve's skilled fingers, and it was a doozy. Tony, armoured up and silhouetted against a darkened sky, took up almost the entire page, wings spread wide and picked out in shades of grey as he soared upwards into the unknown. In contrast, the jets of flame streaming down from his boots were flares of bright white against the rest, picking out the lines and angles of his armour from below. 

Good. Lord.

He was the luckiest bastard this side of the Atlantic, to have a pair of mates like this. No, the world, probably. That he'd found Steve in the first place would have been enough for him, even though they'd hidden it when he'd rather have shouted it to all and sundry who'd have listened. But to get to have Tony on top of that...

Bucky cleared his throat a trifle awkwardly. "When you finish that, Steve, it's going in a frame."

"But--"

"No arguments," Bucky insisted. "I want it."

His lover laughed at him. "At least let me redo it on better paper," he protested.

"Don't care. Until you finish the new one, I'm keeping this." Bucky leaned in close, breathing the next words into Steve's hairline, right behind his ear. "And believe me, it's _inspiring_."

"Oh yeah?" Steve pinked a little, and Bucky felt his mate's strong rush of satisfaction and pleasure like it was his own.

"Mmmhmm," Bucky hummed and set his lips against the skin just below the hinge of Steve's jaw.

He got a surprised squeak for his troubles, but Steve put down his pencils and paper and turned enough that he could yank Bucky into his lap then wrap strong arms around his waist. "You are a menace," he said, voice bordering on a growl, before he kissed the breath right out of Bucky.

Before Bucky could retaliate appropriately, Tony seemed to materialise out of thin air to stand behind him and clear his throat. He didn't jump, but that was only because he'd half expected something like that to happen. "If you two are going to have some fun," he said, tone caught between amusement and lust, "I'd suggest moving it to the bedroom where you're less likely to be caught _in flagrante delicto_ by anyone who has access to this place."

Steve paused for a moment before he made a move. "You going to join us?"

"Got to finish what I'm doing," Tony replied, shaking his head. "If anyone does take the bait I laid, I need to be prepared. That means fixing up the armour and adjusting it so that I can avoid getting hurt again next time I use it."

"Then we're staying right here," Steve decided, not letting go of Bucky.

Tony swore at them, then turned abruptly back to his work. "Fine. Not my problem if Jarvis comes in."

The amount of iron will power that move must have taken impressed Bucky further. Steve was tough to resist at the best of times, and here they were, making time together in front of Tony. He didn't think he'd have been able to turn away, had it been Steve and Tony.

"We're gonna haveta make this up to him later, Steve," he told his mated. "Be cruel to tease him like this and not follow through."

"You make a good point," Steve conceded, "even if we're not doing anything that'll get us in trouble. What's going to happen is, I'm going to rile you up until you can't take it anymore and have to go hide in the shower and touch yourself until you come."

Bucky bit his lip again and groaned. "And what about you? You gonna just sit here until you're fit for polite company? Gonna hide your hard cock under the table and draw?"

Steve shrugged then leaned in to breathe his next words into Bucky's ear, returning the favor. "I'll figure something out. Maybe I'll lie down on the empty bed and wait for you to finish, and make you watch while I take care of the problem myself. Make myself come all over my own skin while you stare at me and make me feel like a glass of water in the desert."

"If I didn't know you meant that, I might be tempted to just have my way with you here and now." Bucky told his lover.

He couldn't help the way his hips jerked, rubbing him against Steve through the layers of their clothing, sending shocks of pleasure through them both. They didn't often play this game. They had very few opportunities that afforded them enough privacy to touch and tease and promise but withhold satisfaction. On the far side of the workshop something metallic clattered to the concrete floor, and Bucky idly identified the sound as a dropped wrench. Tony said nothing, though, and Bucky didn't look over. Somehow knowing they were being overheard and probably watched by Tony made everything even better.

With a shuddering intake of air, Tony asked, "So is this something I should prepare myself to see often?"

Bucky caught Steve's eyes. "Well, it ain't somethin' we've ever done much'a."

The statement got him an indulgent smirk from Steve. "Might happen a little more, now, though."

Tony groaned, looking at the ceiling beseechingly, then turned the look on Steve. "You two better follow through later. And keep it down. A man can't concentrate with the two of you making time over there."

Chuckling at him, Steve nodded. "You heard him, Buck," he said and leaned in to nip at Bucky's earlobe, sending jagged lightning flashes of sensation jumping along his nerves, accompanied by a strong shot of lust. "We've gotta be quiet about it."

Bucky bit his lip and growled a string of curses under his breath as the feeling made his hips jerk. Goddamn, but this was going to kill him. "Shut up and kiss me, then. Might be quieter if you close your yap long enough to do something better with it."

Making a mock-offended noise, Steve did just that, and Bucky lost the thread for a while. Time passed in a haze of warmth, want, and slick wetness, not really registering as seconds or minutes but more as one long smeared out moment.

When Tony appeared at his shoulder to pull them apart so he could kiss Steve, Bucky found himself watching his lover wreck his mated. The sight left him fighting for air in an attempt not to come in his pants, and then that got even more difficult when Tony's free hand landed on his jaw. The heat, desire, and need ricocheted between them, resonating like a particularly clear bell like tone.

Steve pulled back with a gasp, throwing his head back and nearly hitting it on the wall behind him. Bucky would have ribbed him about that, had he had the wherewithal. Tony repeated the process, without missing a beat, but this time he was kissing the air right out of Bucky's lungs and keeping a hand on Steve.

The intensity of it made Steve twitch convulsively, coming within a hairsbreadth of spilling them onto the floor. "Tony! Shit," he gritted out between his teeth.

That was enough to get him off, and Bucky came with a hitching whine, writhing like a hooked fish between them as he soaked the front of his pants.

Pleased with himself, Tony broke the kiss and let Bucky pant for air. Fuck. He was the luckiest bastard in history. 

"Jesus," Bucky managed to say as he started drifting down off the high. "Y're too damned good at that."

Steve's head came down to rest on his shoulder. "And you look too good to resist when you come. Nearly set me off, just lookin' at you," he said, and turned to Tony. "This mean you're done with your whatever it was, Tony?"

"Luckily for you, I am." Tony stepped away from them and stopped in front of a nearby locker placed against the wall. He pulled a pair of pants out of it and held them out to Bucky. "Here. Can't have you wandering through the house looking like I molested you in public."

"Y'did," Bucky retorted, but took the pants gratefully and stripped out of his own with a grimace of distaste without bothering to get out of Steve's lap. At least they weren't on base, where getting back to his bunk meant walking around in the open streets.

"Hardly," Tony disagreed. "This might count as semi-public, at best. Not many people have access to my workshop, and you know it."

Pulling the clean pants up over his hips and zipping them up, he shrugged. "Well, Steve," he changed the topic, "your turn. On your feet. I want a shower, and to see you follow through on what you promised me. I want to see you mark yourself up and maybe bury myself so deeply in Tony that I still feel him wrapped around me tomorrow."

Tony's expression went anticipatory and he might as well have licked his chops. "That sounds like a good plan to me."

His comment ended in Steve putting Bucky on his feet and holding him there until he steadied, then standing, himself. "Then that's what we'll do," he decided. "I'm all for it."

They spent the evening in one anothers' arms, and Bucky enjoyed it to the hilt. It was the best kind of reward for a job well done, and he knew Tony and Steve agreed. They'd spent several hours just basking in the glow after carrying out their plan, which had had the contentment and satisfaction they felt acting like a warm blanket. It had made Bucky feel like a cat in a sunbeam, and then it had carried them through the most restful night's sleep, Bucky could remember having in months.

Waking the next morning had been like swimming up through molasses. Sleep didn't want to relinquish him, and he didn't particularly want to leave the bed. But, eventually, his need to piss forced him to throw back the blankets with an irritated grumble and shuffle into the adjoining bathroom.

The day passed uneventfully, and the Howlies were bored. Bucky could see it in their every word and gesture. They were, however, far too stubborn to admit it and take themselves back to the barracks on base.

He and Steve had had to intervene to stop three separate half-baked plans in their tracks by the time dinner was on the table, and Bucky had taken a moment to be thankful that at least cooking had kept the morons more or less out of trouble.

"Hey, Stark," Gabe said taking a bite out of his bread roll. "How long d'you plan to wait it out before you decide no one's going to take your invitation?"

Tony considered that for a moment. "It's tough to pin down a timeframe, because the news has to get back to the right person, and then they have to decide to make a move and also put their plan into motion." He shrugged. "Maybe a week?"

Morita huffed. "Isn't that a bit too generous?"

"Ça dépend. S'ils mobilisent plusieurs équipes, il peut prendre quelques jours."

"A valid point, Dernier," Monty agreed, "but wouldn't that be overkill?"

"Not if they're expectin' us to be hanging around," Bucky replied. "Doubt they will, but we can't discount the possibility."

Jarvis put in his two cents. "If they've heard anything about the hit we just made on Peenemünde, they'll come in force, and soon."

Dumdum and Pepper both nodded but she was the one to speak up. "That was a major loss for them and I don't doubt they'll want some revenge."

Steve's hands twitched like he was wishing he had the shield in his hands. "They're welcome to try."

"Well, for now that can wait. Between you seven, Pepper, Rhodes, and Jarvis, I doubt there's a chance of them getting far," Tony declared, confidence ringing in his voice. "I've seen all of you fight, and right now I'd rather enjoy my downtime."

Dumdum raised an eyebrow at him. "Does that mean activities that are fit for public viewing and participation?" he asked, a knowing undertone in his voice.

Bucky laughed. "Dumdum, the three of us might be talented, but not even we can spend days on end in bed. Maybe we should play a round of poker or something."

The others exchanged a look that implied they were going to cheat just enough to thrash him and Steve somehow. Bucky grinned wolfishly. It had been a while since he'd had a chance to put the rest of these assholes in their place.

A laughing group of cheerful -- no, borderline gleeful, really -- Commandos dumped their plates in the sink and then hurriedly helped with the rest of the cleanup. In under ten minutes everything was done and the dishes dried and put away, and they were determinedly herding Bucky and Steve toward the living room.

The game of poker wasn't to be, however. The moment they'd gotten themselves settled, the front door creaked open and they all went silent, their experience with ambushes kicking in, leaving Jarvis and Tony the only two in the room making any sound. The front door had been unlocked, since they were at home. But everyone on both teams was present and accounted for, and they weren’t expecting visitors.

Not to mention that visitors would've rung the bell. No one currently outside the living room was allowed to just waltz into the house like that. Whoever it was that had just opened the door wasn't supposed to be here.

Before Bucky could react, Dumdum and Gabe had gotten to their feet and taken up positions on either side of the doorway. Dumdum, facing the front door and foyer, grinned broadly in anticipation of a fight, and gestured for Monty and Morita to join him. Without a word, their footfalls inaudible thanks to Tony's decadent carpeting, they did. Bucky, wanting desperately to see, to know what was happening, bit sharply back on the urge to stand and join them, too. Dugan would've asked for him if his help was needed. He _knew that_. And he trusted his team with not only his life, but Steve's and Tony's.

Steve, Dernier and Jarvis looked put out, too, also clearly itching to take part in the fun. Pepper just looked tense, as though she wished she had a pistol.

Tony came to their rescue. "What do you think," he asked Jarvis casually, sounding like he had not a care in the world beyond what he was about to say, "should we go visit Miss Van Dyne this coming weekend? It's been quite some time since I've had a chance to catch up with her."

"Tony," Pepper shot back, "you know as well as I do that Janet is a busy woman, and you can't simply show up on her doorstep."

Dumdum didn't leave Tony time to reply. With another sharp gesture, he leapt out the door and into the corridor, his chosen compatriots hard on his heels, and the sounds of a very one-sided fight rose. The intruders, whoever they were, shouted in surprise and alarm. A few suspicious bangs and thuds could be heard, and then the Commandos involved were marching three struggling men into the living room.

"Look what we found," Dumdum declared, proud as a hunting dog bringing in a duck. "They weren't good for much exercise, but maybe you can let us help convince them to talk."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, then at the strangers.

The three of them were wearing domino masks, for all the world like they thought they were in the pictures and robbing a bank.

"We ain't tellin' ya nuthin'." One of them declared. Bucky assumed he was the leader.

"Then we'll turn you over to MI-6 and let them do it," Steve told them. "They'll be much less gentle, you know."

The leader stayed stubbornly silent, but one of the other two, his domino mask ever so slightly askew, spoke up. His voice wavered a little, intimidated by the lot of them no doubt, but he gave them what they wanted. "Baron Zemo, 'e says, grab Stark and bring him to the base south of Munich," he paused when his leader hissed at him to shut up, then went on, "you shut yer trap, Charlie, I got no desire to die here. They didn't pay me near enou' for that."

Bucky almost wanted to laugh. Why did the Nazis always seem to underpay the people they hired?

"Where is that base?" Steve demanded.

"Somewhere south of the city, in the forest. Dunno more than that." The man looked suddenly uneasy.

"Don't worry, lad," Jarvis put in, giving Charlie a glare. "You've been helpful. These other two, though..."

"Turn 'em over to Fury," Bucky suggested. "He'll know what to do with 'em."

"Yes," Pepper mused, "that should do nicely. Take the smart one with you and offer him the chance to repent and help us out properly."

"That's settled, then. Who's up for prisoner transport?"


	22. [Tony POV]

It hadn't taken long for them to drag the reluctant trio to the joint agency headquarters and hand them over to Fury, as promised. The one who'd talked, he'd gotten off lightly. The other two had been handed over to the interrogation team while Fury smirked nastily.

Their report to Fury, which would be passed to the interrogation teams so that they could cross-check what they heard and dig deeper into interesting lines of questioning, didn't take long. An hour after they'd shown up, toting their prisoners, they were free to leave again and had Fury's official permission to go after Zemo and Strucker. Granted, Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips hadn't had a say, but Tony didn't much care. It was far easier to beg forgiveness than get permission, especially where a committee was involved, no matter how small.

The Commandos insisted on sticking with him and his soulmates, somewhat to Tony's surprise, claiming they'd need to be around in case of a second attempt. Steve had rolled his eyes, but laughed at them.

Once he, Bucky, and Steve were finally able to get a little bit of privacy, back in Tony's workshop, his mates relaxed at last, a subtle tension that hadn't been immediately obvious leaving their shoulders. 

"Buck?" Steve called, holding out a hand.

Bucky immediately took it, and tugged Steve over to the drafting table they'd taken advantage of for their little game of sexy keep away yesterday. "You alright, Steve? You feel tense."

Tony paused before he dove headfirst into the remaining repairs and preparations he'd need to do before they could go after Zemo and Strucker. He saw Steve shrug helplessly, fighting to articulate his answer. Bucky waited him out in silence.

"I can't-- I don't have the word for it. There's no reason to think anything will go wrong if we do this, but all my instincts are screaming that something will and we won't be able to do a thing about it." Steve said eventually.

Bucky huffed at him, and pulled Steve into a hug then down onto his lap on the chair that stood by the drafting table. "You might well be right, but you know what that means, yeah?"

"Oh?" Steve raised an eyebrow at him. "What would that be?"

"Be prepared to spring their trap and turn it on them," Bucky said simply.

That statement made Steve relax further with a grumble. "Guess you have a point. But without knowing what kind of trap it is, how can we counter it?"

"You're the tactician," Bucky said and shrugged, running his hands up and down Steve's back. "Pick the three or so most likely scenarios and run with them."

Tony decided it was time he spoke up. "Most likely is that they try to split us up. Divide and conquer. Zemo and Strucker have been trying to work that angle on my team for years. It's gotten depressingly predictable."

Steve nodded. "Anything else?"

"We have to assume they have more artifacts in their possession than just the orichalcum we liberated at Peenemünde or the Cosmic Cube they used on me." Tony replied and sighed. "HYDRA has been hunting for and collecting such things for a long time, and that's been the main point of contention between them and me. They want the artifacts so they can gain power and dominion over people. I want them for study and safekeeping."

Memories of the numerous showdowns he'd had with Zemo and Strucker over that threatened to boil up and overwhelm him. Tony had to shut his eyes for a second and remind himself that, no matter who Zemo had been to him, that was no longer the case. His father no longer existed. The body might live on, but the spirit was long departed.

"Tony?" Bucky called out to him after the silence held for a beat too long. "C'mere."

Taking a steadying breath and forcing his eyes open, Tony plastered a smile on his face and stepped in closer. "You wanted something, sweetheart?"

Bucky reached out with his free hand -- the other was still holding Steve's -- and held it there, invitingly. "Yeah, you here with us."

"Not tired of me yet?" he joked, trying to hide his awkwardness.

" _Never._ " Steve replied, his tone rock steady and confident. It reminded Tony of the feeling he'd gotten at the knowledge that he had Yucatan bedrock underfoot, on his last ill-fated journey with Gialetta.

Gialetta. Tony winced at the memory and felt his feathers rouse without his conscious volition, telegraphing his tension. That had been a mess.

"Tony, if you think you're ever getting rid of us, you've got another think comin'," Bucky put in and reached out those few centimeters further. "We ain't about to let you go, and the rest of the Howlies ain't either. You're one'a us now."

"That so," Tony finally reached out and took the offered hand, letting the want and comfort and reassurance wash over him and soothe his ruffled feathers back down. 

"Damned right it is," Steve muttered, a bit mulishly, and reached for Tony's other hand. "Gonna tell us what got you so upset?"

Tony considered it for a moment. "Later. Right now, what I should be doing is finishing the upgrades to my new armour and giving your gear an overhaul. In an ideal world, I could magic-proof the pair of you, but..."

"But it's not an ideal world," Steve finished. "We'll manage. We always have so far."

Reluctantly, Tony took his hands back and crossed the expanse of floor between him and his project. "You'd better. Either of you morons gets killed and I will find a way to resurrect you just so I can punch you in the face."

Caught off guard, Bucky sputtered and laughed. "I can live with that," he agreed.

With a nod, Tony let himself tune out the world and focus down, his awareness of time turning into a distant thing as he worked. At one point, somewhere between finishing the tweaks to his own armour and starting the repairs to Jarvis', one of his soulmates had pushed a plate of fingerfood into his hands and he'd taken it automatically.

The moment the plate had been empty, he'd turned back to Jarvis' armour, thankful that the repairs were all fairly minor, and the most important thing on the to-do list was resupplying the ammunition.

Finished with that, he considered trying to upgrade the armour and quality of his soulmates' gear, but there wasn't time to do that properly before they left for Germany. Fury had promised to get back to them by dawn with the location of the HYDRA base his would-be captors had intended to take him to, and Tony had no doubt that the man would follow through. HYDRA disgusted him, and for all that he didn't strictly approve of Tony, that disgust far outweighed the annoyance of having to work with a Stark.

Of course, having the approval of the Howlies, whom Fury respected enormously, helped quite a lot, in that regard.

He wasn't sure how Phillips or Carter felt about him. The pair of them was much harder to get a read on.

It was clear his soulmates wouldn't give a damn about it if they disapproved, though, and nor would the rest of the Howlies, who seemed to think he was good for their leaders. Bucky and Steve were just as stubborn as he was himself, once they set their minds on something. Tony wasn't about to argue.

"Tony?" Steve broke into his thoughts. "You finished?"

He stood and stretched with a groan. "No, but the rest of my to-do list will have to wait."

"Come to bed, then," Bucky suggested. "Some sleep would do you good."

A glance at the clock told him it was almost 2 am. "We'll have to be on the airship in about five hours, if Fury gets back to us as promised," he pointed out.

"You've made your preparations. That means you can come get four hours of sleep, and then a few more once we're in the air," Steve said firmly.

Tony gave in. "Fine, fine. I've ended up with a pair of mother hens for soulmates," he grumbled, not actually all that irritated and sure they could hear it in his voice. Mother hens they might be, but Tony enjoyed sleep a lot more now that he had them around to join him. It helped keep the nightmares down, for all three of them, and Tony actually felt better than he had in years, despite his recent injuries.

As though his thinking about it had reminded it to pain him, the deep bruise on his leg pulled, the sting distracting him and making him hiss.

Bucky gave him a wry look. "Been pushing yourself too hard again?"

"Nah, he just needs to remember not to let his muscles stiffen up," Steve put in, setting Bucky on his feet and standing.

Upright, they walked over to him, bracketed him, and steered him gently but firmly out of the workshop and up to his room. There, they efficiently stripped him down to his skivvies, then did the same each other while he watched them appreciatively. All that lovely skin and muscle, and it was all his to enjoy. Before he could get impatient, Bucky wrapped an arm around his waist and tumbled him to the bed. Steve chuckled and followed, once they were settled.

Despite feeling too wound up to sleep, Tony blinked, and the promised four hours had gone by.

"Stark," Jarvis called, knocking loudly on the door of his bedroom, "get decent. Carter's here with news."

Bucky rubbed at his eyes with a tired grumble. "Ugh. Hate this," he mumbled around a yawn.

Tony felt much the same. The temptation to stay right where he was, warm and snugly wrapped up in his mates' arms, was strong. "Gotta deal with Zemo and Strucker," he reminded Bucky, "or they'll just keep trying until they succeed."

Steve sighed and climbed to his feet. "He's not wrong. C'mon, Buck, up and at 'em."

In the end it took them about five minutes or so to dress well enough that their relationship wouldn't be glaringly obvious to Agent Carter, who had yet to find out about them. That meant Steve took the longest, given he needed to look put together. Tony and Bucky simply put on their uniforms and tried to tame their hair into a semblance of order.

Once he was dressed and close enough to decent for government work, Tony shook out his feathers and gestured to the door. "Shall we?" 

Bucky, who was leaning against the doorframe, waiting for them, shrugged. "Sure, why not. Steve, we'll see you downstairs."

"Right," Steve agreed, shaving with Tony's razor, "I'll be there in a minute."

Bucky waited for Tony to precede him through the door, then pulled it shut behind them. "Think there'll be any coffee left by the time he joins us?"

"With Gabe around?" Tony replied, "I'm not sure. Probably be lucky if we get any."

With an amused huff, Bucky followed him into the kitchen. The room smelled of coffee, eggs, and sausage, and Tony stopped to enjoy that for a moment before he realised that Carter had found her way into the room and was sitting at the table with Jarvis and Pepper. Gabe and Dernier were standing next to the coffee maker and watching it like hawks. The rest of the Howlies were not yet in evidence.

"Morning, Agent Carter," Tony greeted her with a polite smile. "I take it you're here because our caged kidnappers sang? Jarvis. Pepper," he nodded at the others of his team.

Agent Carter sniffed. "It was almost insultingly easy. They broke within the hour, but it seemed prudent to let your team recover a bit further before you go running back out into the field again."

Gabe grinned. "That's thoughtful of ya, Agent Carter," he said, "but we wouldn't suggest another run if we weren't confident we could pull it off."

"Maybe so," she conceded, "but more prep time is always better than less. There's no need to give up that advantage."

Jarvis grinned at her. "You listen to the lady, now, Jones. She's got more sense than any of you."

Agent Carter tipped her mug of tea at him, then turned to Bucky. "Barnes, where is the rest of your squad? And Rogers, for that matter?"

Pepper snorted and interjected. "Don't you worry, Agent Carter," she said tone bone dry, "they wouldn't miss this for much of anything."

Bucky picked up the thread from there, not missing a beat. "The Captain's on his way; said he needed a minute to clean himself up. I 'spect he'll show up about the time that coffee finishes brewing. No idea what the others are doing."

The moment he finished speaking, Morita and Falsworth sauntered into the room. Morita looked a bit like he wanted to try to turn Gabe upside down and shake him until he produced some coffee. "There'd better be some joe for us," he said, then remembered his manners. "Agent Carter, ma'am."

Steve followed them in the door, shaking his head at their antics, and helped himself to some of the food Jarvis had prepared, then plated up two more servings and handed them to Tony and Bucky before seating himself next to Pepper. After a glance around the room, counting heads, he asked, "Where are Dumdum and Rhodes?" 

"Rhodes spent the evening with his soulmate," Jarvis replied easily, apparently not caring whether that was known to Agent Carter or not, "and Dugan ought to--"

"Ought to what?" Dumdum asked, walking in with perfect timing. "Morning, everyone."

"Now that everyone is here," Agent Carter said, her lips twitching just enough to betray her amusement, "we can begin."

"Gather round the fire, y'all," Gabe quipped, "it's time for a story."

Ignoring the commentary, Agent Carter waited only just long enough for them to seat themselves, and then launched into her efficient briefing. "The three men you dropped into our laps last night admitted to being hired by Baron Heinrich Zemo and Wolfgang Strucker to kidnap Mr. Stark and take him to a HYDRA fortress in Bavaria. The place is located about 50 kilometers north of Castle Donar and 40 south of Munich, in a remote part of the Black Forest. They call it Fort Benedictin, ironically enough. Your attackers don't know what goes on there, but our own analysts did a bit of digging, and found allusions to human experimentation and research on magical artifacts that sound much like what you found at Castle Donar."

Steve's expression went hard. "That place needs to be shut down, then."

"We agree, luckily for you," Agent Carter replied with a half-smile, clearly having anticipated Steve's reaction to that news. "Raze it to the ground and bring back whatever intel you can. Same drill as at Peenemünde."

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "I'm assuming we won't be getting much in the way of reinforcements."

"No, Sergeant," Agent Carter told him with a slight shake of her head. "This is not only top secret but very short notice. I'm afraid you're on your own, for this one."

Dumdum shrugged. "Won't be any different from most of the other raids or precision strikes we've done, then."

A short silence fell as they all thought things over.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Monty asked.

That question was all it took to have the lot of them save Dernier laughing and disappearing to sort through their gear, then pack. Their demolitions expert caught Agent Carter's attention.

"J'ai besoin de réapprovisionner en explosifs et en grenades," he said.

Agent Carter nodded and reached for a duffel at her feet that Tony hadn't noticed consciously. "I thought you might," she replied, a smile in her eyes and tugging at her lips, as she set it on the table with a clatter. "Here. These should suffice."

Dernier's eyes lit up and he grabbed for it eagerly.

Steve watched him, fond amusement writ large all over his features. "Go get your gear packed," he suggested. "We head for the airfield as soon as everyone's ready."

Without a word, Dernier nodded and hurried out of the room, glee in his laughter.

Agent Carter stared out the door after him for a second, then shook her head in mock disappointment. "I really have to wonder how your team has been so successful, sometimes," she commented, "and then I get reminded that you're all crazy."

Tony laughed. "Does that make Rogers the crazy-in-chief?"

Bucky's lips quirked. "Well, no. That's the American brass who have to put up with us."

Steve swore at them under his breath, making Jarvis laugh outright. "I'll clear our departure with the air traffic controllers,” Jarvis told them. “You three get packed. Pepper and I have what we need aboard, already."

"Give Rhodes a call, while you're at it," Tony put in, as he pushed himself to his feet. "We might need him. Tell him he can bring Danvers along if she wants in."

Jarvis nodded thoughtfully. "We can find a job for her. But can we find a bunk for her?"

That was a good point. "We'll be flying there direct, and flying back direct, too. It ought to be doable. If it becomes an issue, we can sleep in shifts."

Agent Carter stood. "It sounds like you have things well in hand. I'll leave you to it. Good luck."

Pepper nodded, a determined set to her jaw. "Don't you worry, ma'am," she said just before she left the room with Jarvis in tow, "we'll give 'em hell and then some."

"I have no doubt of that," Agent Carter said with a vicious edge to her voice. "And they'll deserve every bit."

Tony prodded at Bucky. "Come on, then, sweetheart. We need to get a move on, ourselves."

"Yeah, yeah." Bucky crammed his last few bites of food into his mouth and hurriedly swallowed. "Don't worry, the airship won't leave without us."


	23. [Steve POV]

Suddenly alone in the kitchen with Peggy, he hesitated.

"Captain," she said quietly, "I don't think I really need say it, but, do be careful."

Something about that warning made his instincts jump to attention. "You have some more intel?"

Making a frustrated grimace, she shook her head. "No. Just a feeling. A very bad feeling."

That paralleled his own worries -- and Tony's -- too closely for comfort. "Yeah," he agreed. "Me too. But Stark's right about one thing; if we don't deal with Zemo and Strucker, they'll only keep trying to get at us, and one day they'll succeed."

He very nearly told her about their triadic relationship. It all but burned on his tongue. She would find out eventually, and the longer they hid it, the madder she'd be. As it was, they were skating on thin ice, and Steve knew it. But revealing that bit of information would more than likely end in Bucky getting shuffled off into some other unit. It was unlikely that the brass would accept Tony transferring Bucky to his own team from the Howlies and otherwise leaving their arrangement as it was.

In the end his hesitation cost him the chance.

Peggy stood. "I ought to get back to headquarters."

Steve followed suit, manners and protocol pricking at him. "Of course. Would you like an escort?"

"No, that shan't be necessary." Peggy looked him over from head to toe, and nodded. "You'll do. Go show them what we Allies are made of. Cut that damned HYDRA head off and sear the stump."

The demand brought a crooked half-smile to his face. "Roger that, Agent Carter. We'll salt the ground, if we have to."

With that, she was gone, her heels clicking on the hardwood floors at an even but brisk pace. A moment later, the front door shut behind her with a thump, and for the briefest moment, Steve felt the regret knife through him that he hadn't ended up in a triad with _Peggy_ and Bucky.

Shaking off the feeling -- sure, he admired Peggy and could easily have convinced himself (and Bucky) to attempt to court her if Tony hadn't fallen into their lives headfirst, but he was more than satisfied with the partners fate had handed him -- Steve squared his shoulders and headed up to Tony's room to gather up his own gear. It was high time he followed his own orders and got moving.

Letting his own apprehensions get the better of him was not something he could afford to do. Not even if Peggy's and Tony's mirrored them. Bucky was right. They'd just have to spring the trap and then destroy it from inside.

The problem was, they had no idea what shape the trap would take, which made it very difficult to counter. They'd all have to be very quick on their feet.

Steve pushed open Tony's bedroom door, still deep in his thoughts, and stopped short. Three sets of packed gear sat in a neat row beside the bed, and his soulmates stood in the middle of the open space beside them attempting to make each other forget their own names.

Tony, his back to the door, had wrapped himself bodily around Bucky, his arms around Bucky's waist and his wings bracketing them in a way that all but cocooned them. It was a protective possessive gesture, and Bucky definitely seemed to appreciate it. One of his hands was rubbing at the point between Tony's wings, making him moan and his eyes flutter, even as he kissed Bucky with abandon.

 _Mother and country._ Steve shut the door behind him with alacrity, and fought to marshal his suddenly scattered thoughts. He had to clear his throat before the words would form. "Were you planning on leaving me out of the fun?"

Bucky broke the kiss to chuckle. "Punk. No, we were passin' the time 'til you got here."

Tony let his head drop until it was resting on Bucky's shoulder, breathing a bit deeper and harder than normal. "I thought you said it was a reminder."

"That too," Bucky replied easily. "Never hurts to know what you've got to come home to."

Steve shook his head at them, dead sure that if he let them pull him into their embrace they would end up in bed and extremely late to the airfield. "Come on," he told them after a beat, wherein he considered giving in to the temptation. "We need to get moving before the others come looking for us."

"True, we can pick this back up aboard the airship," Bucky agreed, missing the point spectacularly.

Steve found he didn't mind. "Probably the best option we've got."

Tucking his wings back against his shoulders and stepping away from Bucky, then hoisting his bag of gear carefully onto his shoulder, Tony chuckled. "It'll mean we have a lot less privacy, but we are on a schedule, sadly."

The trip to the airfield passed in something of an uneventful blur, after that. He and Bucky had grabbed their own sets of gear and piled into the transport Monty had requested from HQ. Tony and his team would be joining them there, since they needed to crate up the armours and transport them to the airfield. It was a task that required a crane and a vehicle with a specially reinforced suspension.

He and the Howlies got to the airfield a solid ten minutes before Tony and his team joined them, and spent the time unloading their gear from their transport, which burned the first three minutes, then the rest watching the airfield's ground crew. Albeit with different reasons. Steve was mostly curious about the day-to-day operations of such a place, and kept an eye on what people did and tried to reason out why. Bucky, somewhat more cynical than he was, kept an eye on the people going in and out of the building watching for anyone who might be shady or inclined to spy on them. The rest of the Howlies did much the same, preferring to keep the news of their travels as quiet as possible.

They were well-known on the airfield, at HQ, and in London as a whole, which meant it paid to keep as much of a lid on the gossip as they could. Luckily, once they were in the air, there was little to distinguish Tony's airship from any other. 

Before their presence at the airfield could be remarked on too obviously by the maintenance crews and other personnel, Tony and his team arrived with the crated up armours. They brought Miss Danvers with them, and then what seemed like instants later, they were aboard the airship, rising swiftly into the air. Rhodes and Danvers had ensconced themselves in the pair of seats at the helm, and Pepper had chosen to stay with them. The Howlies had made for the galley, laughing and joking, as had become their habit when aboard the airship, since it was about the only space aboard that was large enough to hold them all at once. Steve watched them go, a fond smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, Steve?" Bucky prodded at him verbally. "You just gonna stand there?"

Turning to his mated and raising an eyebrow at him, Steve asked, "Is there something else I should be doing?"

Tony shrugged. "Well, for lack of any better ideas, I might go update my journal," he said and started towards his bedroom-study.

In a flash, Bucky was plastered against his back, making Jarvis snort. "Go on, get out of my sight," he grumbled. "Keep that kind of display behind closed doors. I sure don't need to see it."

They could all hear the gruff fondness Jarvis wasn't about to admit to.

Steve stepped over and put a hand on Bucky's shoulder. "He's got a point, Buck. Come on."

Rather than waste his breath on further words, Bucky simply started walking without taking his hands off Tony, herding their mated along in front of him. "I guess. But 'f I don't get my hands on Tony soon, I won't much care where we are."

Thankfully, the next door was Tony's, so Steve stepped past them and opened it, then pulled his lovers through by the back of Tony's belt. Tony stumbled over his feet, distracted by the way Bucky was kissing him and caught off guard. He flailed a bit, lost his balance, and landed in Steve's arms, leaning against Steve's chest. It left him completely overbalanced, his shoulders and neck pressed against Steve, his hair tickling at Steve's collarbones, and his wings spread wide.

He looked up at Steve with a hint of irritation in his eyes that Steve knew was feigned, and grumbled, "What's the big idea, Rogers? I was busy."

The feelings he was getting from Tony were more a mix of want and interest. "Just following orders," he said with a smirk, knowing both his lovers would see that statement for the outrageous excuse it was.

Bucky chuckled at them both, coming in through the door after them and closing it behind him. "Gotta say, I was enjoying that kiss, but now I'm enjoying the view even more. You look pretty amazing draped over Steve like that."

"That so?" Tony turned his mock-irritation on Bucky, but Steve could see that he was intent on picking back up where they'd left off before they'd had to leave for the airfield. "I'm not sure I like that idea."

Bucky smiled at him, the expression predatory and dangerous. "Can I persuade you to change your mind?"

Steve couldn't resist that. "Buck, you've got no idea who you're talking to here. If you'd read Marvels at all, you'd know how legendarily stubborn Tony is." 

He ran his hands up Tony's flanks, caressing him through his clothes just to make him squirm, and watched Bucky all but salivate over the sight. He knew when Tony cottoned on, too. Tony suddenly relaxed into his arms, though he wasn't obvious about doing it. 

"You think I'm stubborn, you should see Pepper," he said, and reached up to tangle a hand in Steve's hair. "You gonna just keep me dangling here all day?"

"Demanding, too," Steve added with a smirk. "And no, I'm not."

"What'd'you have in mind, then?" Bucky asked. "You have a plan. That's easy to read."

Running his hands back up Tony's sides -- and smiling when Tony's free hand came up to wrap around his arm just above the elbow -- then down over Tony’s chest and belly to linger at the button of his slacks, before letting one trail lightly down over the bulge in Tony's pants, Steve hummed an affirmative. "Thought I might try to get Tony off right here. Like this."

The hand around his arm tightened almost convulsively and Tony pushed up into the touch.

Bucky groaned, clearly enjoying that idea a lot. "That sounds -- " he said, trailing off into silence when Steve suited actions to words and undid the button and zipper of Tony's pants with a rasp that sounded loud in the near silence.

"Goddamn, Steve," Tony said, dragging in a deep breath. "I don't know where you get these ideas, but don't stop."

"Getting ideas," Steve teased him, "or touching you?"

"Both," Bucky answered. "Definitely both. And where do I figure in this plan of yours, Steve?"

"Where do you want to?" Steve shot back. "Want to watch and get yourself off? Want to tease yourself and hold back until after I make Tony come? Want to come over here and run your hands all over Tony as I drive him crazy?"

Bucky looked stunned and a trifle conflicted. "I-- I want you to get him off as many times as you can before we have to take a break and get ready to parachute down for this hit. And I want to help you do it."

Tony made a slightly strangled noise in the back of his throat. "The two of you are going to kill me," he muttered, not sounding regretful in the least.

"Only a little bit," Bucky told him, "but we're gonna do it over and over, until you can't take it anymore."

"That... might take a few decades." Tony replied, and Steve felt like he was soaring, borne up by the emotions flooding through him. 

Before he could respond, Bucky was pressing in close, slotting himself between Tony's legs in a way that left Bucky's hard-but-still-clothed cock pressed up against the back of Steve's hand.

The move made Tony's grip on Steve tighten, and Steve couldn't help the way he thrust up, all but pinning Tony between them. He tried clearing his throat, but his next words still came out half-growl. "First one will be just like this, Tony. I'm going to hold you right here and Buck's gonna get you off."

Tony made a sound that was half-whine and half-moan, but didn't protest. The want and need swirling through their bond, seeming to jump back and forth between the three of them faster the longer they touched, was answer enough.

Bucky stared at him for a moment, then shook his head. "Nah, Steve, I meant it when I said I wanted to see you get him off."

"Alright, Buck." Steve conceded. He had offered that, after all. Leaning down to kiss Tony, he slid his hands between Tony's slacks and underwear, just to make Tony growl at him. It worked, too.

A beat later, losing patience, Tony squirmed around in his arms, breaking the kiss and letting go of Steve's hair and his arm in favor of reaching down to undo his suspenders, then shove both his slacks and underwear off his hips. Bucky chuckled at him, and helped him out of them once the clothes hit his knees and got hung up on his tail feathers.

Steve took advantage of the moment to take Tony in hand. "Mmm," he said with a smile, ducking his head so that he could use his teeth to tease at the tip of Tony's ear, "I do like that you fit in my hand so nicely, Tony."

"Yeah?" Tony turned his head just enough to offer a bit more access. "That so?"

"It is," Steve told him, using his free hand to gather up Tony's wrists and pin them to his sternum, shivers running up and down his spine at the way Tony's wing feathers brushed against his skin as he did. "I like a lot more than that, though," he added, starting to slowly move his hand over Tony's cock, from root to tip, where he lingered.

Bucky put in, "Go on, Steve. What else?"

Taking a moment to look at Bucky and take in the sight his other lover made, his hair ruffled and standing up in all directions with the way he'd run his hands through it, his eyes wide and dark, his pants straining to contain the evidence of his enjoyment, Steve smiled.

Turning back to Tony, he let himself up the pace a bit. "Your bravery," he started, watching Tony pink just enough to notice and feeling the mixed pleasure and embarrassment, "is one of the things that I always loved reading about. Your smarts," Steve leaned in to drop a kiss on Tony's forehead, "were one of the things I admired long before I got a chance to meet you. But," he smirked, toying with the head of Tony's cock in just the way he knew Tony liked it, "the package it all comes in is also a strong turn-on."

Tony tried to respond, but the words got caught in his throat, coming out on a moan instead when Steve stopped his hand moving.

It took a moment, but Tony rasped, "Why'd you stop?" 

Steve looked down at the length of his mated. Tony was breathing hard, muscles straining for more, and Steve wanted to give it to him. He held back for another few seconds. "Wanted this to last."

That got Bucky's patience to break with an almost audible snap. "Fuck that," he growled, reaching down to twine his fingers between Steve's and sending a jolt of heat and desire through all three of them that got them moving again, "finish what you started."

After that, Steve didn't really have much of a chance to protest. The three of them spiraled higher and higher, Tony's pleasure running through them and back in a visceral kind of resonance that had Steve gasping for air himself and Bucky biting at his lip in an attempt not to come in his pants.

It wasn't long before Tony was coming all over their hands and his shirt in long stripes, and throwing his head back with a wordless shout. Steve managed to hold himself back, but only just. It was only the fact that he was still fully dressed that allowed him to.

For his part, Bucky tore himself away, the moment Tony tipped over that edge, breaking contact and clenching his fists until the knuckles went white. "Goddamn, Tony," he said after he'd clawed his way back to some semblance of control, voice more rasp than not, "that was fantastic."

Tony, obviously still flying high on the afterglow, smirked at him. "Well, I do know what I'm doing, once I get someone between the sheets," he quipped.

Bucky's hand came up to trail through Tony's hair, and he shook his head. "You know it's so much more than that," he replied, voice low. "We ain't been together long, but what you said? 'Bout it taking a few decades to get tired of us? That goes for both'a us, too. I want a lot more of you than just your body, and I can tell you Steve does as well."

Steve hefted Tony a bit higher in his arms, and had to bite back the rumble that threatened to escape him when the move pressed Tony's ass more firmly against his hard cock than he had been before. "What Buck's saying is that we love you, Tony, and that makes anything we do a hundred times better."

"Only a hundred?" Tony joked, tugging gently at Steve's grip until Steve let him go.

"Well, I didn't want to exaggerate." 

Tony rolled his eyes. "You are ridiculous," he replied. "I'm gonna need a few minutes before I can even think about a second round. You two go ahead and entertain one another. It's my turn to enjoy the show."


	24. [Bucky POV]

In the end, the three of them had wound up curled together on Tony's bed once he and Steve had wrung one another dry. They'd passed the remaining five hours of flight time like that, just touching and letting themselves enjoy the quiet time that they got so rarely. Even now, they were only getting it because they were en route to their next mission.

Bucky could tell that Jarvis and Rhodes were keeping them high in the air -- high enough to be out of reach of most flak cannons, which had a range of one to two klicks -- and carefully avoiding the known emplacements of any longer range artillery. 

A knock at the door made Tony grumble a few curses. "Yeah?"

"We'll be at the drop zone in just under an hour," Rhodes replied. "Get out of bed and get ready. Jarvis is getting the armour prepped."

Bucky stretched, letting his hand trail over Tony's wonderfully soft underfeathers. "Guess that's our cue," he said, knowing he sounded a bit petulant.

Steve caught him by the chin and tilted his head until he could drop a fairly chaste kiss on his lips, then a second, and a third. "It is."

Carefully tucking his wings against his back, Tony got to his feet before he stretched, wings, tail, and all. Bucky couldn't help the shot of lust that the sight sent through him. Goddamn, but Tony was stunning. Standing, he took the two steps over to Tony and wrapped his arms around Tony's waist, putting them nose-to-nose.

Tony smiled at him. "Hi."

"Hi yourself, sweetheart," Bucky retorted, deciding he wanted a kiss from his other soulmate as well, and leaned in.

Tony met him halfway, the touch languid and warm and slow, then pulled away to get dressed.

"You might want these in a minute," Steve -- who'd pulled on most of his uniform and harness with a speed born of habit, meantime -- said and tossed Bucky's pants at him.

Bucky made a face at them, but pulled them on, then bent to repeat the procedure with the rest of his kit. Tony, lucky bastard, didn't have to bother with such things. He had his armour, and the less gear he wore underneath it, the more comfortable he was. In fact, if Tony'd tried to fit more than a pistol and his ridiculous bullwhip on his person while wearing the armour, Bucky doubted he could've fit into it.

Rather than rush off to get into the armour, though, Tony lingered to watch them suit up. "I will never tire of seeing you two get all dolled up," he joked.

Steve chuckled. "We'll get all dolled up for you anytime you like, Tony," he offered. "Just don't ask me to wear it for long if we're not in the field."

"You're on," Tony immediately called that bluff. "Later, I intend to peel that suit back off you. Piece by piece."

Okay, the way Tony said that, it sounded like a lot of fun. "I think I like that plan," Bucky put in, "but right now we need to go get ourselves a pair of parachutes."

"Right," Steve shook off the slight reverie that had come over him -- imagining what it would be like to have Tony peel the uniform off him, no doubt -- and opened the door. "Let's go. We have some HYDRA heads to chop off."

Bucky nodded. "Damn right, we do."

"Go marshal your troops, then, Captain," Tony suggested, as though they weren't about to do just that, "and I'll assemble my team."

Steve, to his credit, didn't comment on the redundancy of the words. He just acknowledged them and let them pass. "We'll see you on the lower deck."

Bucky watched Tony turn and stride purposefully off towards his onboard workshop, then followed Steve through the airship. Sure enough, the rest of the Howlies had already gathered on the lower deck. They were joined by Rhodes and Danvers. Bucky had no doubt Jarvis was helping Tony into the armour.

Rhodes handed him a 'chute, while Dugan did the same for Steve.

"You boys took your time," Rhodes said, his smirk containing volumes for all that his tone was mild.

Dugan chuckled. "That's why you went to roust 'em early."

"Seems to have been effective," Monty commented. "We'll have to keep that in mind for next time."

"Har har," Bucky shot back, knowing it would be ineffective in quelling the Brit's amusement at their expense. "Just watch it, Monty, or I'll make sure I wake you early for your watch for the next month."

Thankfully, Tony and Jarvis showed up, then, interrupting the discussion, their helmets under their arms.

"Everyone ready?" Jarvis asked and got affirmatives from everyone. Not satisfied with that, he moved up to each of them and tugged sharply at their 'chute harnesses, testing the closures and fit. Tony stood back where his wings wouldn't get in the way, and waited for Jarvis to finish.

Once he was through running his checks on everyone -- on both teams -- he stepped back with a satisfied nod and announced, "We'll be coming up on the drop point in under five minutes."

Steve seemed to materialise beside him, taking his hand without drawing attention to the motion. Tony watched them both with a knowing expression. No one else in the room gave them so much as a glance. Around them, both teams were mostly silent, either wrapped up in their own thoughts, or checking their kit one last time. Dernier wore an expression of keen anticipation, and Dugan's was similar. Danvers and Rhodes stood shoulder-to-shoulder, talking quietly about something Bucky couldn't make out, but Rhodes had a besotted smile on his face. Monty, Morita, and Gabe were watching the pair of newly mated and grinning, clearly fond and pleased with the way that courtship was going, making Bucky wonder just what the three of them had missed out on. The Howlies' expressions hinted that they'd adopted Rhodes and Danvers, too, and not just Tony. 

The last minutes felt more like an hour. It was the kind of agony he knew well, waiting, knowing that there would be no respite once they were on the ground, but wanting to get things moving nonetheless. Bucky found himself wanting to pace more than once, and it was only Steve's continued grip on his hand that kept him still.

Then, with a suddenness that threatened to leave him reeling, it was time. Jarvis crammed his helmet on his head, and Tony followed suit. The pair of them strode over to the large door set in the side of the deck, intended for loading and unloading cargo, and hit the switch to open it. "Let's fly, ladies and gents," Tony called over his shoulder, and got an appreciative chuckle out of everyone.

Without another word, Tony and Jarvis simply stepped off the airship, trusting their wings and bootjets to catch them before they hit the ground. He and Steve were hard on their heels, and the others not far behind. Before he pulled his ripcord, Bucky took a few seconds to enjoy the rush of the air in his face and past his ears as he fell, arms spread wide, and tried to imagine what it felt like to Tony. All too soon, he was slowed to what felt like a stop with a jerk that nearly made him bite his tongue.

There were some things he really hated about parachuting.

In the darkened sky around him, eight other parachutes opened with a series of dull snaps and creaks. Tony drifted around them, pushing them back on target when needed, then glided away again. The tips of his wing feathers brushed against Bucky's skin a few times, and he reacted with a shudder. After the third time Tony did it, Bucky figured out that it was on purpose.

Before he could retaliate appropriately, or work out whether Tony had been flirting with Steve as well, the ground loomed up beneath them and he was suitably distracted by making sure he didn't injure himself on the landing.

As he got his feet on the ground and ran those few steps through the clearing Tony had steered them towards, he heard a pair of pained grunts behind him. Morita and Monty. Shit.

The two of them were tangled together on the ground in a mess of paracord and silk, struggling to untangle themselves and swearing quietly at one another.

"--swear to God, Monty," Morita was muttering, "you never watch where you're fucking going. Too goddamn busy trying to keep an eye on the others."

"You're not much better," Monty hissed back, clearly very unhappy with the current state of affairs, and would have continued if Jarvis hadn't put his foot down.

"Shut up, both of you. You injured?" Jarvis growled at them.

Steve stepped up next to the armoured field medic, and silently lent him his support. Gabe and Dernier set to work helping with the parachutes.

Morita carefully tested his arms and legs, then hissed in pain when he tried his right ankle. "Well," he answered reluctantly, "I can't tell how bad it is, but I sure won't be running anywhere anytime soon."

It was Steve's turn to swear under his breath. "Just what we needed. Monty?"

Gabe and Dernier picked that moment to get the worst of the tangle of lines and fabric sorted out, and Monty took advantage of it to stand. "Nothing immediately obvious."

Bucky let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. At least they still had their radio man. He'd have been happier if Morita was also good to continue, but sometimes shit went wrong. They all knew that. The awkward thing about it was that there was no easy way to get him back aboard the airship without drawing attention, and no good way for him to follow them into the HYDRA base. Nor was just leaving him here a good option.

Tony sighed. "Jarvis, old friend, do you think we should risk taking him back up?"

"I don't like it, but I think it might be the only way," Jarvis replied. "You stay here. I'll deal with this, and come find you once I'm through."

He turned to Morita, and offered him a hand. "On your feet, Jim," he demanded. "I'm taking you back up to the airship. The rest of you, redistribute his gear amongst yourselves, if you think you'll need it."

Rhodes and Danvers picked that moment to step forward. "We can take a good bit of it, if we need to," Danvers said quietly. "We brought a bit less kit than you guys did."

Morita took the offered hand and let Jarvis pull him to his feet, where he wavered for a few seconds before he caught his balance. "Most of the weight is ammo," he said. "It'll be most useful to Barnes and Dernier."

"Gotcha," Rhodes nodded. "Now give it here so Jarvis can get you to where you need to be."

With a shrug, Morita followed orders. He let Jarvis steady him while he undid the clasps of the parachute harness that had gone over the rest of his kit, then started in on those holding his backpack in place. Rhodes was there to take its weight once he got them open, and then Morita was staggering again once the pack was off his back.

As they dealt with the issue of distributing the gear Morita was carrying that they felt would be useful, Jarvis looked him over a little more carefully, and made irritated noises over what appeared to be a sprained ankle and some deep bruising. None of the injuries were deadly, but they added up to a sum that meant Morita wouldn't be able to continue.

Under five minutes after they'd landed, Jarvis had his arms locked carefully around Morita and launched them back into the air. Morita didn't quite manage to keep silent about it, though he bit off his startled yelp pretty quick.

Steve watched them go with a very irritated look on his face. "Barely started and we're down a man," he muttered. "Better hope that's not an omen."

"Shut up with that shit," Gabe replied, uncomfortable with the idea. "That kinda talk will guarantee that something else goes sideways. Let's get moving. Jarvis' departure was kinda visible."

There was a part of Bucky that wanted to stay put and watch to make sure the pair of their teammates got back to the airship in one piece. The rest of him knew that was a bad plan. He bit back a groan, and threw in his lot with Gabe. "He's right, Steve, we'd better scram."

Both teams nodded, and, with that, they got underway. It wasn't a quick march or an easy one, by any means. The terrain between them and their goal was hilly, and not really suited to walking, much less when you had a pair of wings and were wearing about 60 kilos of armour, but Tony made it work. The rest of them let him set the pace, well aware that he would be a lot slower than they could be, and not wanting to leave him in the dust.

Or, perhaps more accurately, well aware that Steve and Bucky would refuse to.

All in all, it took them about half an hour to climb up to the ridge they'd picked out as their staging area, and not without a bit of swearing along the way. Gabe picked up a nice shiner by catching Dugan's elbow with his face while they'd climbed a short scramble. Tony had attempted to climb it, in a bid to keep his fuel consumption to a minimum, and ended up getting his tail caught between a couple of his armour plates. Danvers had snickered at him, but helped gently work them free.

Seeing someone else touch Tony that intimately had made Bucky want to seethe, but he'd bitten down on the very jealous impulse, ignoring the way that it took almost all the self-control he possessed. Tony wouldn't thank him for it, and they didn't need the tension that kind of squabble would cause, right now.

He felt a little better once he noticed that Steve was also watching her like a hawk. Bucky took the half-step over to Steve, leaning against him for a brief moment. "She won't take any liberties, you know," he said quietly, making sure he words didn't carry farther than Steve's ear.

"I know," Steve replied just as low-voiced, the words carried on a soundless sigh, "but that doesn't make it easier to see."

Thankfully, it didn't take Danvers long to get Tony untangled, and he decided to use his jetboots to give himself the boost up the rest of the way, rather than get tangled up again. He alighted next to the pair of them, and Bucky smirked when he heard the disgusted sound Tony made. His mated was probably scowling behind that expressionless face mask.

Steve waited until everyone was assembled and had caught their breath before he turned to Tony. "Any word from Jarvis?" he asked.

"Not yet, but I can ask for an update," Tony informed him, pitching his voice to be just loud enough to carry to everyone present. "He might be waiting for us to make contact and let him know where we are, rather than try to search for us from the air."

That would make sense, actually, Bucky had to concede. Jarvis would be far less visible if he could simply make a beeline for them rather than try to hover in the air and basically make a target of himself. "Let him know where we are, then," he suggested, "and ask him if he'd rather join us here, or after we blow a hole in the side of that fortress."

Said fortress, their target, was just visible on the horizon as a blacker patch silhouetted against a sky full of stars. Surrounded by forest and mountains on all sides, it was tucked away in a nearly inaccessible area of the countryside. There was a single access road, with watchposts strewn along it at intervals of roughly a klick, and the low mountains all around the fort were difficult terrain to cross on foot. The whole area was very defensible, and had it been a place the Allies had picked, he would have approved.

As places that they had to assault went... it was the type he liked least. They would be exposed to enemy fire on their approach to the walls, and if they were spotted, they'd be sitting ducks. As it was, their usual plan of sending Dernier in alone to plant his charges would be a pretty risky one, and Bucky didn't like it one bit.

Sure, it wouldn't be his skin that had any holes punched in it, if things went horribly wrong. At least, not at first. But he didn't like the idea of sending one of their team into a situation where he'd be facing the equivalent of a firing squad, if he got spotted. Between the lack of cover and the well-defended walls, being seen was practically a death sentence. It would be like shooting fish in a barrel, for the Germans.

Their plan, such as it was, called for them to circle around to the northern wall, which appeared to be the least defended since it was on the far side of the access road and backed up against two mountainsides, and punch a big hole in it.

They'd be doing the equivalent of kicking an anthill and hoping not to get bitten.

It was a shit plan, but Bucky couldn't come up with a better one.

Steve broke into his thoughts. "Dernier? You ready for this?"

Their explosives expert gave him a crooked smile, barely visible in the darkness. "Non, mais ça ne m'a pas encore arrêté."

Tony picked that moment to speak up. "Jarvis says he intends to wait for the boom and then land on their heads. We're to get in and get to the central courtyard, ASAP, to join up with him."

Steve nodded, acknowledging that. "Alright, we're green. Whenever you're ready, Dernier."

Rhodes grinned, a flash of white teeth in the darkness. "Let's hit 'em hard."


	25. [Tony POV]

Watching Dernier carefully scramble down the steep scree slope, doing his level best not to disturb the rocks as he went, Tony bit at his lip. This was arguably the single most dangerous moment of their mission and they all knew it.

Including Dernier.

Tony knew the man could move a lot faster than he was, currently, should he choose to. But the need to be stealthy outweighed the need to be quick, for the moment. Doubtless, Dernier would be a lot hastier in leaving the blast radius.

A hand buried itself in the soft underfeathers of his right wing, and tension sang through him and Steve, like a lightning bolt connecting them. "He'll be fine," Steve said in an undertone.

Tony wasn't as confident, but he nodded, accepting that Steve knew the Howlies' skills and capabilities a lot better than he did.

Dernier picked that moment to make his move. With the walls in reach, he gathered himself and leapt forward, landing on a course of stone that protruded just slightly, forming a narrow ridge that was just about wide enough for him to plant his toes on.

He must have made a noise without realising it, because Bucky shushed him and Steve's fingers combed comfortingly through his feathers. "He's done this before," Steve told him. "See how he's balanced? Got a good grip on the wall? Dernier knows what he's doing."

Rhodey chuckled under his breath. "Telling the Boss not to worry is like asking water to flow uphill," he said quietly.

Danvers snorted. Dugan grinned. "Why d'you think we like him?"

Bucky shushed them all. "Shut up, will ya?"

What felt like half an hour later, for all that it was probably less than a minute, Dernier sprang back away from the wall and cautiously made his way along the hillside, perpendicularly away from the point where he'd planted his explosives.

"Time to move," Monty said with a grin.

Gabe nodded. "Lock an' load, guys."

The moment Dernier was a reasonably safe distance away, he took cover. Almost simultaneously, there was a loud explosion. A good quarter of the wall section he'd been climbing on blew outward toward the mountainside. Another quarter collapsed under its own weight. Shouts went up from the fortress, and alarms went off.

Tony breathed a silent sigh of relief. "That's our cue," he quipped. "Get on stage."

Laughing and hollering war cries, the Howlies led the charge. Steve and Bucky took the lead, and Gabe and Dugan were at their backs. In moments, they were down the hillside and making the leap into the fort look effortless. Monty and Dernier followed a trifle more slowly, letting the other four blaze a trail that they followed and kept clear. Tony, caught off guard by how quickly they all moved -- much more quickly than they had at Peenemünde -- spent a stunned moment marveling at the way they worked together as fluidly as through there was a single mind and will controlling the seven of them.

Rhodey shoved at his shoulder, jolting him into motion.

Readying his weapons, he glanced at the skies long enough to confirm that Jarvis was coming to join them, then leapt after the Howlies, letting his wings spread without conscious thought. There was no way he was going to let them have all the fun, now that they'd come this far. Not when Strucker and Zemo were more his nemeses than theirs.

Rhodey and Danvers followed him without hesitation.

The three of them made it to the wall as more shouts went up and the sound of anti-aircraft guns filled the air.

Jarvis' heavy machine guns answered, and Tony fought the conflicting urges to get to the top of the walls to deal with the flak guns and stay down where he was to back up his mates. In the end, he decided against going up, because that would make him a target for literally the entire force manning the fort. If Strucker and Zemo were here, they'd have their men target him first and deal with the rest of their joint squads at leisure. Much as he hated the idea, much as he would rather be there to help, Tony knew it would be smarter to rely on Jarvis' skill and cunning.

Inside the walls, the darkness was minimal. There were lights everywhere, making the interior of the whole place bright as day. Only the courtyard and walls were dark, in deference to the place's secrecy and the need to not be spotted from the air if they could avoid it. Tony approved of the tactical savvy even as he swore a blue streak at the men with rifles that were doing their best to pin down the Howlies before they could get far enough into the fortress to do real damage.

The HYDRA men were getting taken out as fast as they appeared in a hail of bullets and Tony could hear the ringing bell like tones of the shield clearly. He grinned, knowing the expression was likely more than a little dark and vengeful; the Howlies were leaving behind a trail of bodies and destruction.

Tony caught up to Monty and Dernier first, keeping his wings tucked tight against his back so as not to make the small corridor any harder for his team and Steve's to maneuver in. They gave him a glance and a nod. "Not much farther," Monty told him. "The Captain and Sarge are--"

"Dernier!" Steve called, "Door's reinforced!"

With a shrug Dernier hurried forward to join Steve and Bucky. "Ne t'inquietes pas. Je sais comment crocheter une serrure."

"Well, the courtyard is just beyond that door," Monty finished.

Behind him, Tony heard Rhodey and Danvers take down three more HYDRA men. "I just want to know where Zemo and Strucker are," he replied. "It's not like them to get my attention like this, and then _not_ show up to their own party."

"Good point," Rhodey chimed in. "The pair of them love to gloat. And getting revenge on the Cap for rescuing you would be just as tempting to them as getting to lord it over you."

Danvers snorted. "They're not all that smart, are they?"

"Smart enough to keep slipping through our grasp," Tony retorted, then flinched in surprise as Dernier's charges blew the door off its hinges. "But we'll have to deal with figuring out their motives later. Come on. We'd better get out there and keep an eye on them."

Rhodey laughed at him. "We all know you'd rather hide us away, if you could," he teased, even as he followed Tony, pelting hell for leather out into the courtyard.

Through the door Dernier had destroyed, Tony could see that Jarvis was still playing hide and seek with the flak guns and the Howlies were splitting off into pairs to help him. They went after any emplacements that were within reach, then started fighting their way to those that were placed higher up on the walls. Steve and Bucky were a force of nature. The pair of his mates rapidly cut a large swathe through the men in the courtyard then barreled their way up to the highest point nearby, taking out the men operating the eighty-eight placed there and using it themselves. Steve was defending Bucky against all comers, and Bucky was very carefully picking off every HYDRA man he could get at without potentially hitting a teammate.

Tony took it all in with a glance, as he half ran, half flew through the doors, letting his wings mantle and catch the air. The moment he was visible, a shout went up, and any HYDRA men who could dogpiled him. There were too many for him to easily deal with them all at once, and Tony found himself caught in the grips of at least five pairs of hands. They grabbed for his wings and tail, yanking harshly at the feathers, and tried to tackle him to the ground. They were careful to stay behind him, and keep out of range of his guns and flamethrowers. He couldn't shoot them without hurting himself.

Luckily his armour let him keep his feet, but he was fairly well immobilised in moments.

Then Rhodey and Danvers joined the fray. The pair of them moved in easy synch, as though they'd been doing it for years, hauling the men off Tony one by one, and disabling them. 

As Danvers threw the last of them to the ground and planted a boot between his shoulder blades, her gun up and ready to fire, the courtyard suddenly fell silent. No one moved. Tony was sure it was because no one _could_. He was immobilised by some force he couldn't seem to get free of. Every muscle felt like it had been locked in place, and his limbs refused to respond.

Zemo and Strucker picked that moment to appear, and Tony rolled his eyes behind his faceplate. Such melodrama. Typical villain.

His enemies walked calmly over to him, one smirking visibly and the other telegraphing his satisfaction through the set of his shoulders and his swagger, his expression hidden by that bag he always wore over his head. 

"So," Zemo said, his tone grating on Tony's nerves. "What have we here? It appears Stark has found some allies since we saw him last, Commander."

"It does indeed appear so," Strucker replied.

Tony fought to get free. Trying to speak got him nowhere. Even those muscles were locked up tight. He was probably lucky they couldn't just make him stop breathing.

"Well, it will do him no good." Zemo added, prowling around him. "Just look at him, though. Magnificent. Every bit as lovely as I'd hoped. He'll make a lovely addition to our planned menagerie. Once we've perfected the methods, we can add the rest of the Allied leaders to our collection."

Tony wanted to flinch away when Zemo let his hand trail lightly over his wing, covetous. Cold fingers ruffled the outer feathers and made his skin crawl, then ran over every inch of the armour covering and protecting the long bones and muscle they were attached to. A low growl from Steve got his attention, and Zemo's.

"Oho, Baron, this is a wonderful twist. The great Captain America is being rather protective of our escaped bird," Zemo crowed.

"Perhaps we should teach him what it means to take such a treasure away from us before we're through with it," Strucker said, mock-thoughtfully.

God, no. Tony fought to get free once more, desperation driving him onwards, that time. He got as far as clenching his fist before Zemo noticed the change and tightened his grip or whatever it was he'd done to pin them all in place like that. It had to be some kind of magic; Tony knew of no technological device that could do anything like this. 

"Stark seems quite attached to the Captain, as well," Strucker observed, and chuckled.

The sound would have sent a shudder down his spine, had he had the ability to move. No. No no no. This was spiraling too far out of control far too quickly.

"What do you think is the best way to do this, Baron? I feel our revenge will have the most effect should we start with Stark's team, then the good Captain's, eliminating them one-by-one, until only Stark remains."

Unable to turn his head, now barely able to breathe properly, with how tightly he was being held, Tony could do nothing but listen as Zemo and Strucker moved around him to stand in front of Rhodey and Danvers. Feeling the need to turn and punch Zemo's lights out like a physical thing, a visceral knot deep in the pit of his stomach, Tony felt his fingers twitch again and his breath come easier. He needed their focus to be on someone else, needed them to stop paying quite as much attention to pinning him in place, and he hated the idea. Hated that someone else would have to suffer so that he could try to get free.

A pained breath that ought to have been a scream came from Rhodey and Tony fought to get free again. Unfortunately, that meant he made just enough sound, his success making the servos of the armour whine quietly, that Zemo and Strucker firmed their grip on him again without even looking at him. Well, Tony didn't think they looked at him. The action was taking place behind him.

Rhodey made a choked sound, then, and Tony heard a body fall to the ground.

"That's one down," Strucker announced. "A thorn in our side removed."

Zemo chuckled nastily. "Just listen to the woman growl," he said gleefully. "She isn't pleased with what you've done, Commander."

So Strucker was the one hurting his family. Tony decided Strucker would go down first, the moment he had the wherewithal. Another pained breath behind him, and a second body hit the ground.

"Two down," Strucker announced, pleased with what he had wrought, then he and Zemo took the few steps to put themselves back in Tony's line of sight. "Where is the rest of your team, Stark? Have they abandoned you to your fate at our hands? Truly? Your other armoured friend has left you under the Captain's protection? That was a tactical error on his part."

Tony could only stare at the Commander in disbelief. That couldn't be. Where was Jarvis? Had his old friend managed to hide himself away somewhere, canny old fox that he was? Please, oh please, let it be true.

Rather than continue in that vein, Strucker shrugged. "Oh well, no matter. We can track him down some other time. For now... you two, come here," he said and gestured imperiously off to his right.

Stiffly, as though they were fighting every step of the way, Dernier and Gabe approached. It took them some time, since they had to climb the stairs down from the walls to the courtyard, but Tony was almost glad of that. He heard Steve growl again, this time echoed by Bucky.

Zemo caught Tony's eyes. "The Captain is protective of his team, is he not?"

"That is a moot point," Strucker pointed out. "He cannot do a thing so long as I hold him down."

"Very true," Zemo agreed as Gabe and Dernier finally reached the courtyard and stopped a few meters from them. "But I think he will feel it just as much as Stark will. Stark is soft-hearted. He _cares_ ," Zemo sneered, "and the guilt of being the cause of his friends' injuries will be worse than the injuries themselves. The Captain obviously feels much the same about his team. Look at him, the way he glares. He wants _so very badly_ to get free of your hold, Commander."

"Oh, I have no intention of letting him slip the snare he's caught in." Strucker turned his attention to the pair of Howlies in front of him. "But, I wonder, what kind of punishment would suit these two the best?"

Zemo smiled, the expression spreading across his expression like oil over water, and he caught Strucker's attention. "I have a suggestion, my dear Commander."

Turning to Zemo as though this was some kind of civilised discussion and not the world's most drawn out version of a magical firing squad, Strucker made a 'go on' gesture. "Do enlighten us with your wisdom, Baron."

"What better way to accomplish more than one objective at the same time, than to have one complete the other for you?" Zemo opened.

"Oh?"

"Have the Captain and his Sergeant do it for us."

No.

Tony all but passed out where he was standing. Hell no. This was not happening. Jarvis hadn't abandoned them, and Strucker wasn't about to coerce Steve and Bucky into killing Gabe and Dernier. His vision tunneled down until Gabe's pale frightened face was all he saw, and Zemo laughed at him.

"Now, now, son," the Baron said condescendingly, "don't forget to breathe. We don't want you injuring yourself. Soon enough you'll be working with your old man instead of against him, for the glory of HYDRA. And perhaps we'll let the Captain and his team live long enough to do the same. It would be a propaganda coup worth the effort."

Strucker gave him a considering look then smiled slowly, the expression audible. "That, my dear Baron, would be a wonderfully ironic twist of fate. Yes, I believe that might well be the best possible punishment for them."

"And just think, Stark," Zemo added, "you were kind enough to hand deliver them right to us."

"Sergeant?" Strucker did the thing where he beckoned imperiously again. "Your services are needed."

Bucky was staring daggers at Strucker even as he helplessly walked closer, climbing slowly down to the courtyard. If looks could've killed, Strucker would have been a scorch mark on the paving stones.

It took almost a minute for Bucky to make his way down into the courtyard, obviously doing anything he could to buy time for someone, anyone, to manage to break free and shoot Strucker. It was a hope that went unanswered.

Behind Tony, Rhodey made a sound that was almost a groan, and Tony might have fallen to his knees in relief if he hadn't been in his armour and held paralysed. Danvers appeared to be out cold, judging by her silence. At least Tony hoped she was. If Rhodey was still alive, he had to hope she was, as well. Zemo and Strucker weren't paying her any attention.

Strucker eventually tired of Bucky's attempts to resist. He caught and held Bucky's eyes, and Tony could see it. Could see the moment his mated unwillingly knuckled under. The moment the pressure Strucker was exerting became too much.

"Good morning, Asset," Strucker said, stepping back.

Bucky was silent, his eyes seeming to glow an eerie blue that reminded Tony of the Cosmic Cube far more than the gorgeous grey-blue they normally shone. And, wait, that was a horrifying thought. Was the Cube what Strucker was using to keep them pinned down like this? To force them to obey? Did he have the Cube _on his person_?

For his part, Tony was throwing every ounce of willpower he had at the bonds keeping him from helping his teammates and his soulmates, whatever they were. He didn't give a rat's ass how Strucker was holding them captive anymore, he just wanted _out_. He needed it almost more than his next breath and nevermind how necessary that air would be when he tried to take Strucker and shove the Cube down his throat.

Zemo prowled around Bucky in a tight circle and Tony would have gritted his teeth if he could have. "He will be magnificent, _incandescent_ , in our service," Zemo gloated, smug satisfaction lacing his tone. "The Fist of Hydra."

Strucker made a surprised sound, then, and Zemo turned away from Bucky to face his compatriot.

"Oh, how _poetic_ ," Strucker said on a laugh. "The good Sergeant is soulmated to Stark."


	26. [Steve POV]

He was numb, to his fingertips and the ends of his hair. It didn't matter that Tony was curled around him, alive and warm. It didn't matter that he and his Howlies were back aboard the airship, or that Pepper and Jarvis had saved them all like the heroes they were. Nothing mattered, right now.

They were en route back to London, down a man, and all he could do was wrap his arms tightly around Tony's waist as he relived the memory of their mission over and over.

It hadn't mattered how he’d tried, he’d been unable to move.

Held fast where he'd been crouched, defending Bucky as his mated had used the flak gun they'd captured to shoot at the men in the courtyard, he'd had to watch as Strucker and Zemo had put their dirty hands all over Tony with more than a hint of lust and covetousness in their respective bearings. He hadn't been able to stifle the growl that rose in his chest at the sight, to the amusement of their adversaries.

Then it had gotten worse.

Rhodes and Danvers had gone down, and Tony's fist had clenched despite the hold his enemies had on him, and then the strange weight on his mind had redoubled, weighing him down until he thought he wouldn't be able to breathe.

A shock of fear and desperation had gone through him when Gabe and Dernier had been called forward to face the metaphorical firing squad, and it hadn't been his own. The knowledge that Tony had felt those emotions, strongly enough that they'd resonated over the bond despite the distance between them, had made Steve fight harder to get free. Seeing Bucky get forced down to the courtyard, handpicked by Strucker to play executioner, had made him see red, but even with that intensity of emotion bolstering him, he hadn't been able to do more than twitch his fingers.

He hadn't been able to look away, either.

He could still hear the delighted voice openly declaring Tony and Bucky soulmates. _"Oh, how_ poetic _. The good Sergeant is soulmated to Stark."_

He could still feel the intense mix of anger, dismay, and relief that had gone through him. His soulmates were both in danger now, and he could do nothing, but despite that, he was thanking every god he'd never believed in that their enemies hadn't worked out what they were to him.

Steve had wished desperately for a distraction. Something, _anything_ , to get Strucker's attention off them long enough for them to break free of his hold.

And then, as though summoned by his thoughts, the courtyard had seemed to erupt in gunfire, but it had been too little too late.

Zemo and Strucker had grabbed Bucky and vanished, seemingly into thin air.

"Hey," Tony said softly, running a hand through his hair, "Steve, come on. Come back to me."

He pulled in a shuddering breath, ruthlessly stomping down on the sob that threatened to break him. He couldn't give in to despair, he knew that. He _knew that_. Bucky's life depended on it. He had to hold it together long enough that they could find Bucky and turn Zemo and Strucker into paste.

"We'll get him back," Tony promised him once more, enough certainty in his voice to weather anything.

Steve knew Tony was just as shaken. He could feel it, emotion boiling like heated water under the iron bands of Tony's will. After what had happened in that courtyard, Steve had a new appreciation for just how strong Tony was. That Tony had managed to move at all despite the way Strucker and Zemo had pinned them all down like it was nothing, well, it had made more of an impression after they'd picked themselves up out of the rubble. 

"Damned right we will," he agreed, once more, almost by rote. "But first we have to find him." Doing what he could to force himself steady -- Tony needed someone to lean on just as much as he did -- Steve buried his hands in Tony's wing feathers and combed them with his fingers, straightening a few that had gotten a little ruffled or tangled together.

"I know," Tony agreed, even as he relaxed into Steve's hold, a little of the tension in his shoulders disappearing. "Carol's promised to talk to her contacts already, and once we're back at HQ, we can get our COs working on it."

His hands tightened on Tony briefly, and Tony made a slightly pained face.

Letting go as through he's been burned, Steve took a breath to apologise, but got cut off when Tony kissed him hard enough to make him gasp in surprise. Steve let himself fall into the touch, taking the offered comfort and asking for more with the way he responded.

Tony's hands ran down his jaw and neck, then over his chest, the touch lingering and soothing rather than arousing.

Eventually, when the kiss broke, Tony added, "You've just got to get through the debriefing, Steve, that's the critical point."

Even the thought of having to let Tony out of his sight was painful. "Not sure I can," he mumbled into Tony's skin, the fear that if he let go of his other soulmate Tony would disappear as well, torn out of his arms like Bucky had been, cutting through him. "Barely been able to let you go since we got off the field. How are you even thinking about this stuff?"

Tony huffed, making a sound that might have been a chuckle had it had even a hint of mirth in it. "It's not easy, but one of us has to and you're in no kind of shape to do it," he answered, making sure to lean on their bond to take the sting out of the words. "Our biggest problem is that we have no idea what they want him for, or where they'll take him. HYDRA has agents all over the world. But," Tony paused for emphasis, a determined expression taking hold on his handsome features that Steve was grateful for, "luckily, so do we."


	27. [Tony POV]

Weathering the pain, fatigue, and stress of having Bucky so violently ripped away from them was wearing on him, but Tony could see that Steve was taking it even worse. His mated had recovered somewhat by the time they'd gotten back to London, and with the Howlies' support Tony had managed to convince the brass to come out to his airship once more for the debriefing. The three of them had arrived at the airfield minutes after Jarvis and Rhodey had moored the airship, and Tony had been unsure whether he was more annoyed or relieved by their promptness.

It hadn't taken long for them to get settled in the galley. Dernier had set drinks in front of him and Steve, getting a raised eyebrow from Phillips.

A short silence reigned as their COs took in the people present, and the glaring absence.

Fury was the one to ask, never one to shy away from delicate lines of questioning. "Where's Barnes?"

The assembled company winced and Tony felt Steve take his hand, under the table. "Captured," Morita replied, sounding like the word had been torn out of him.

Carter swore colorfully. "Stark? You alright?"

"No," Tony replied bluntly, his free hand itching to wrap around Steve's where their fingers were twined together tightly, "and I won't be until we can get him back."

He forced himself to leave his right hand on the table. It was already probably drawing attention that he hadn't taken his left out of his lap. He didn't dare make it more obvious that Steve was using him for comfort in a very physical way.

Phillips sighed heavily. "Honestly. Every damned debrief with this team. I assume you're already working the intelligence angle?"

"Insofar as we can," Jarvis agreed with a nod, "but our resources are limited."

"Captain?" Agent Carter prompted him, apparently not liking Steve's uncharacteristic silence. "Do you have anything to add?"

Steve didn't answer, making Carter narrow her eyes. "Rogers! I asked you a question."

"No, I don't." Steve shrugged.

Dumdum stepped in. "He's taken it pretty hard, Agent Carter. Barnes has been his best friend since they were kids, and HYDRA's snatched him."

Fury scoffed. "No one is that broken up over losing their best friend," he declared. "There's more to this, or I'm reading the situation entirely wrong."

"I don't think you are, Director," Agent Carter sided with him.

Tony gave in. They were busted, or as near as made no difference. Fury was like a dog with a bone when he thought he'd picked up an inconsistency in their reports. Tony had seen him do it before, digging and digging and nitpicking until he was satisfied he'd found the truth.

He squeezed the hand in his, then lifted it onto the table. Under other circumstances, he'd have enjoyed this immensely. He got a reaction worthy of a photograph. Phillips' jaw dropped, and Fury fumbled his cigar. Agent Carter, ever composed even under the most intense fire, merely pinched the bridge of her nose.

"This isn't a new development, is it," she growled at them.

Tony shrugged. "No, but it would have complicated all manner of things for everyone, and none of us wanted it to leak, so we kept it quiet. As it is, somehow Zemo and Strucker found out about me and Bucky."

"Judging by Rogers' state, he and Barnes are definitely more than friends, too," Carter guessed.

"They are," Tony admitted, "took all three of us by surprise that this was even possible."

"Jesus," Phillips grumbled. "Next you'll be telling me that Zemo's your uncle."

Gabe made a sound that approximated a laugh. "About that."

"Not my uncle, no," Tony replied, resigned to his fate. "Zemo, before HYDRA got him and turned him into the monster he is now... well, he used to be my father."

There had been a fair amount of yelling, after that. There had been no way to avoid it, with the way Steve refused to let go of his hand. Agent Carter in particular had laid into them until Jarvis had stepped in and pointed out that the yelling was getting them nowhere.

The outcome of that debriefing had been as Tony had predicted. The word had gone out that Barnes was held by their enemy and anyone who saw him should report it to them ASAP.

The problem with that, though, was that now they could do nothing but wait.

Tony had no doubt that Zemo and Strucker would send more men after them, and probably repeatedly. They would be supremely unhappy about the way Pepper and Jarvis had ruined their little melodrama at Fort Benedictin.

Saying their goodbyes, their committee of officers left, escorted out of the airship by Pepper and Jarvis.

"Tony?" Gabe spoke up, as Tony gathered Steve up in his arms again. "You got a plan? I'm pretty sure the Cap isn't going to be good for much until he recovers a bit more."

Tony gave Gabe a wry look and a sigh. "I'm not either, really. Holding it together by a thread, here. All we can do is hope, now, and be ready to move the moment we get news."

Dumdum stood and put a hand on his shoulder, offering support. "Don't you worry about that part. We'll take care of it. You just focus on fixing up your armour and our Captain."

The rest of the team nodded as one. "It'll work out for the best," Monty told him, as though they could make it so by sheer power of will. "You'll see."

A bone-deep shudder went through Steve, but he didn't voice his worries, aware as ever that he couldn't fall apart in public -- not even if the only people around were his team and Tony's.

Tony nodded back, feeling much the same way Steve did. "I know."

It had to.

The Howlies filed out, dispersing, and Tony prodded at Steve. "Come on," he told his mated, "we're going back to my place. Your team can come along for the ride if they want to, but I am not letting you out of my sight tonight. Probably not for the foreseeable future."

Steve took a hitching breath that bordered on being a sob, obviously still very upset, for all that he was putting up a pretty good front. "Guess I can live with that," he joked weakly.

"You two go spend some quiet time. That wasn't an easy debrief," Jarvis suggested. "We'll wait for nightfall before we leave the airfield."

"We need to make sure Rhodes and Miss Danvers are recovered enough to go with us, anyhow," Pepper put in.

"We all need to recover," Jarvis disagreed. "That team of Rogers' is hiding it well, but they're also very shaken up."

He'd barely noticed that. Tony brought his free hand up to rub at his forehead. What an embarrassing lapse. "It'll likely be a few days before we have any news at all," he said, trying to make it sound decisive. "We're taking that time to rest. Not one of us is in any fit state to go after Zemo or Strucker, let alone _both_ , right now."

Getting to her feet with an approving nod, Pepper made her way around the long trestle table to them, stopping to put her hand over their joined ones. "We're here, and we're not about to let Barnes slip through our fingers," she told Steve. "He's good for Tony, and so are you. And besides. We swore when Zemo and Strucker got Virgil that we wouldn't let them have another of our family ever again."

Tony hadn't known about that. He hadn't been part of that little pact. It was reassuring, though.

And he could see that Steve took comfort in it, too. "Thanks, Pepper," he managed to say, putting his free hand over hers.

The next four hours passed in something of a blur. Tony wasn't entirely sure how they'd gotten from the galley back to his quarters, but it was a relief to have the opportunity to strip Steve down to his underwear and then do the same for himself. Steve, once he'd figured out what Tony had in mind, was entirely too willing to help. Tony was fairly sure Steve might have tried to instigate something far more sexual than what Tony had in mind, had he not fallen asleep after the first thirty seconds, exhausted.

Tony stayed awake, watching him, soothing away nightmares when they surfaced, and just letting himself focus on having Steve with him. Tony knew that his bond with Bucky had always been more intense, right from the start. Knew that he'd been hit a lot harder by the separation from Bucky that first night when they'd had to sleep in separate beds. But here he was, feeling the effects of having Bucky captured less than Steve. He could function -- not very well, granted, but he could -- but Steve was just a complete wreck, everything else overshadowed by the pain and despair of not having his soulmate at his side.

It was worrying.

There was no information on triad bonds, though. They were sailing uncharted waters. No one knew how their kind of bond ought to work.

At least not in modern literature, Tony realised, and his eyes darted to his bookshelves. The answer might lie in one of his older tomes. It had been years, no, decades, since he'd done any research on the topic of soulbonds, but he'd had to for his trip to the Andes in '26.

Making a note to do some reading later, he nodded to himself. If he could find some kind of reference once he and Steve were more coherent, it might help them track down their missing soulmate. It was another avenue to pursue, and Tony had no intention of leaving any stones unturned that he had a way to peer under. Steve had been mated to Bucky for far longer than he had, and knew his mated far more intimately than Tony did, as yet. Theirs was a relationship that left more unspoken than not, and that mutual understanding might be the key to figuring out where Bucky was.

Letting that thought soothe away some of his own tension, Tony shifted, where he was draped over Steve's chest, bringing his wings up until they were both cocooned in warm feathers, blocking out what little light came in through his window that way rather than get up to draw the curtains.

Steve muttered something unintelligible in his sleep, and his hands came up to hook over the points where Tony's wings met his back, holding them tightly chest-to-chest, as though afraid Tony might vanish. It sent a pang of guilt through Tony, despite the more or less content emotion coming from his mated. The pain of missing Bucky was still there, a bitter undertone that colored everything Steve thought and did, but for the moment he was calm.

Letting himself relax into Steve's hold, Tony closed his eyes, sure he'd end up lying awake for hours.

When he reopened them, Steve was shifting beside him, stretching with a quiet plaintive keen that all but cut Tony to shreds, one hand searching the bed for their missing third. "Buck?" he mumbled, then, as awareness returned, his arms tightened almost convulsively around Tony.

Tony carefully kept his mouth shut, even as the rush of longing and grief that came from Steve hit him. Had Tony been standing, it would have brought him to his knees. "Steve?" he asked tentatively. "You with me?"

"To the end of the line," Steve replied, as if by rote, then broke down, sobbing, and buried his face in the curve of Tony's neck, still holding him tightly.

The shudder that wracked Steve was the last straw. Feeling the distress his mated was in -- as well as his own -- tore down all of Tony's shored up bulwarks. He couldn't stop the tears from welling up in his own eyes, or the way his breath caught in his throat when it tried to close. It was like being caught in river rapids: a strong, fast current that carried him along with no regard for how bruised and battered he'd be afterward.

Every time he took a breath, Steve would make a small choked sound in the back of his throat before the sob broke free, like he was still trying his best to stifle the emotion even as it was pouring out of him, like water over a dam. Tony instinctively held him tighter, even as he knew that wouldn't help. That Steve wouldn't be alright until they had Bucky back.

Tony wouldn't either. That was another given. He didn't even have to think about it.

Feeling his own breath hitch, in a distant kind of way, Tony gave himself over to his own emotion, allowing himself to show it. To let Steve see he was just as affected, just as much in need of comfort and catharsis. 

It took them some fifteen minutes to calm, and Tony felt exhausted. He was sore and his face was wet, his voice a trifle hoarse, and his hands ached, where he'd clenched them around fistfuls of Steve's shirt just under Steve's shoulder blades.

"Tony," Steve asked him after they'd caught their breath, "do you really think we can find him?"

Wishing he could simply say yes but knowing better than to offer a white lie, no matter how reassuring, Tony hesitated. "I think Zemo and Strucker will keep him alive until they can rub it in our faces that they managed to steal him."

Steve accepted that, apparently a lot calmer now that he'd had a chance to pour out all the emotion he'd been bottling up. "And what Zemo said?"

"Zemo said a lot of things," Tony replied, running a hand through Steve's hair and scratching gently at his scalp, then repeating the gesture. "You're gonna have to be more specific."

There was a hesitation. Then Steve seemed to decide to just go for it. "Is he really your father?" 

Apparently their fearless leader had been rather more distracted during the debriefing than Tony had realised. "Yeah," he answered, feeling his voice go quiet as a knot in his chest tightened. "He was. Not anymore. The man you saw? He's entirely HYDRA's creature, without hesitation. My father was not, and never would have agreed with the opinions he claims to have, now. He would never have suggested coercing a commanding officer into committing the cold-blooded murder of one of his own troops."

He would probably have nightmares about that little scene for years.

In fact, it was surprising that he hadn't dreamt about it once already. Tony felt his feathers rouse in instinctive reaction to the idea.

Steve's hands were immediately there, burying themselves in his feathers and combing through them, much like he was still doing with Steve's hair unthinkingly. It was far more calming and reassuring than he would ever have imagined. Tony felt a lot of his sudden tension drain back out of him.

After a minute or so, Steve changed the topic again. "What's next?" he asked, clearly ready to leave the extremely emotional topics behind them.

Tony sighed. "I have some reading to do, and we all need time to recover from that clusterfuck. So we are going to hole up in my house -- with or without your team, because I am sure as hell not leaving you alone, the state you're in -- and then we are going to research, and plan. We need a way to stop that Cube affecting us, or a way to stop Strucker using it on us. We need Bucky's location. We need Zemo's and Strucker's. We need to know that location's layout. Its defenses. We need a way to get there that won't immediately draw lots of attention. We're going to need all the lead time we can get on this one, Steve."

"Until we have intel, we can't make a plan," Steve agreed, then sighed. "But we have to move fast."

"Let Agent Carter and Miss Danvers do what they're best at," Tony suggested, "and let me up. I want to get clean."

They ended up taking the same approach they had the last time Tony had needed to get the team back to his residence. Steve gathered up his team -- sans Bucky, which visibly sent a strong pang through every last one of them -- and crammed everyone onto a transport. Jarvis and Rhodes, having checked over the armours, had decided that those could stay aboard the airship until they were needed, seeing as they were undamaged. Pepper chivvied Tony into a car of his own -- after he'd been gifted his feathers, he'd decided to keep his at the airfield's motor pool while he was on missions or expeditions -- and then they were off.

The moment they were inside the house, Tony unlaced his boots, dropped them next to the front door, and headed for the stairs. Steve followed suit without a word, and the rest of the Howlies laughed at them, preferring to pretend what they were seeing was eagerness to get naked, rather than a need to get clean. Neither of them bothered trying to correct the team.

Once they were in the privacy of Tony's bedroom, Steve locked the door behind them and leaned against the frame for a moment, watching as Tony stripped down to his skivvies in efficient motions.

Not hesitating to catch his soulmate's eyes, Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't mind sharing the bath, if that's something you want," he offered, seeing the way Steve's eyes were lingering on his exposed skin. "And if you want something a little more than that, I'm sure we can come to some sort of agreement." The idea seemed to be one Steve liked. Tony saw his mated's eyes go dark, and smirked at him. "C'mere," he encouraged Steve. "I'm not in this just because you're mated to Bucky, you know. You're as much mine as he is, and to hell with the differences in intensity. Both of you idiots are important to me."

"And thank God for that," Steve breathed in reply.


	28. [Steve POV]

Seeing Tony strip off his clothes had been enough to make his hands twitch with the need to put his palms all over his mated. Hearing Tony declare that he cared about him was enough to get him moving and very nearly snap his self-control.

Not privy to those thoughts but able to read him like a book despite the brevity of their acquaintance, Tony smirked and ducked through into his ensuite bathroom, with its opulent fixtures. He ran the bath without a word, and didn't startle when Steve took the opportunity to step up behind him and touch.

"Not gonna take your clothes off, Steve?" Tony grinned at him. "Be easier to get clean if you did, you know."

"First," Steve replied, "we're going to get dirty."

"You want to give your team more ammunition to tease us with?"

"After what we've just been through, we need it," Steve said, feeling the truth of that in his bones. They needed to reconnect, to reassure one another that everything was okay. And, sure, there were other ways to accomplish that; it didn't have to be sex. Hell, they'd made a lot of progress on that while they'd slept aboard the airship. But he wanted it, wanted Tony.

"So you want to have sex in the bath, hmm?" Tony asked, watching him with a calculating gleam in his eyes. "How do you intend to pull that off? My wings are difficult enough to deal with on the bed, which is a lot bigger than my bathtub."

That was a fair point. He hadn't thought that far ahead. Steve shrugged and let his hands trail down Tony's flanks to rest on his hips. "Okay, true. Turn off the water and come here, then," he demanded.

Tony chuckled at him, but followed orders, willing to follow his mated’s lead for the time being. "And now?"

Steve knew that state of affairs wasn't likely to last. He put an arm around Tony's waist and pulled him in close, putting them nose-to-nose. "Now I want you to kiss me." 

"Oh? I can do that," Tony replied with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Where do you want me to kiss you?"

He stared at Tony for a beat, letting the implications of that question wash over him and carry indecision with them. He could suddenly think of any number of possibilities, and they all seemed like fun. "I don't care," he answered after a beat.

Laughing at him, Tony pulled back a few inches. "Oh no, you don't. Either we're playing that game to its end, or we're discussing your answer later."

"Later," Steve decided. "Rather get my hands on you properly now."

Rolling with that, adaptable as always, Tony shrugged. "Well, alright, but you're missing out."

"We can experiment with that another time," Steve reiterated.

Instead of answering verbally, Tony nodded and leaned in to kiss Steve breathless. The emotion that curled through him the moment their lips met was an intoxicating mix of hunger and adoration that settled in the pit of his stomach. Steve was pretty sure he was replying in kind with want and awe. He'd never believed he would get to have this kind of life, nevermind with two soulmates, one of whom was Tony Stark. In the moment it didn't even matter that Bucky was captured and in trouble; it almost seemed he was in the room with them in fact. Steve felt he could almost reach out and touch him, pull Bucky against him and kiss him just as thoroughly as Tony was kissing him.

Tony was acting like he could devour him, like he could live on the air he was stealing out of Steve's lungs and the quiet sounds Steve was making.

And then the kiss broke.

They stood, leaning against one another, and letting their breathing steady as their hands wandered. Steve realised belatedly that his had ended up on Tony's ass, kneading and squeezing two handfuls of pert muscle. Once he let go in favor of running them up over Tony's flanks and over the front of Tony's chest, he found himself lingering over that plate that protected Tony's heart. It was a surprisingly apt metaphor, really: the plate that protected him and kept him alive was also his biggest weakness.

Tony's hands had landed on his jaw and shoulder, but didn't stay there. Once he wasn't trying to drive Steve into a frenzy with his tongue, Tony brought those talented hands up to tangle in his hair, combing it back out of Steve's face with his fingers, then rubbing at his scalp. The sensation was very nearly enough to make him want to purr. Steve let himself push into the touch, demanding more, and his hands drifted down to Tony's ribcage, tracing out a line that passed over the sensitive skin of his side, under his arm, and then up to the point of his shoulder blade, and back up into those feathers he loved to touch and play with.

The move got him a quiet gasp and Tony twitched. Slotting their hips together, he rubbed himself against Steve, his underwear catching on Steve's slacks, and reminding Steve that he still had yet to get naked.

Pulling back, peeling Tony away from him, made Tony pout at him. "Steve?"

Steve didn't bother answering. He just hastily worked his shirt off, taking just enough care to make sure he didn't send buttons flying everywhere. An instant later, having figured out what Steve wanted, Tony was there, helping. Between them, it wasn't long before Steve's clothes were in a heap on the tiled bathroom floor. His underwear and Tony's joined the pile, too, leaving them pressed tightly together, from their bellies to their knees.

Tony picked back up where he'd left off with his touches, quickly sending Steve spiraling upward.

When Tony's hands landed on his cock, the spike of pleasure that shot up his spine made him curl forward around his mated reflexively. Tony chuckled at him, amused by his reaction, and Steve decided he needed to give as good as he was getting. In a minute. "Tony, Tony, oh God," he gritted out.

"Go on," Tony encouraged him, his touch sending little tingles of love and lust skittering over Steve's skin. "Let go. Let me see and hear and feel you."

Steve bit at his lip and groaned. "But--"

"You wanted to get dirty," Tony pointed out, somehow still able to string together words.

Then he went down on one knee without stopping his touches, using the pile of their clothes to cushion the hard floor, and licked at the head of Steve's cock with a pleased hum.

The sight and sensation were too much for him, and Steve came all over Tony's hand and chin with an almost silent whine that caught in his throat.

"Just like that, mmmm," his mated praised him, grinned up at him, very pleased with himself.

Steve, fighting for air and feeling the aftershocks shuddering through him, could only stare at him wordlessly for a few long seconds. The sight of his mated, marked up with his come, was sending his possessive impulses into delighted spirals. "We're doing that again, sometime," he declared, and reached down to wrap a hand around Tony's arm just below the elbow so he could haul Tony to his feet once more.

"Sure," Tony agreed without hesitation, "after our discussion about those kisses."

That... That was fighting dirty. Steve smiled. Tony really was perfect for him, despite his flaws. "We'll see. First, I want to get my hands back on you and then we need to clean up."

"We also need to talk about your obsession with my wings," Tony added.

"That a problem?" Steve asked him, then hoisted Tony up until his feet left the floor. He was rewarded with a satisfying startled yelp, and grinned, settling Tony's weight on his hips, where his mated could wrap his legs around Steve's waist. Tony did just that, and put his arms around Steve's neck for good measure, his wings spreading slightly as he compensated for the sudden change in position.

"No moreso than the way you haul me around like a sack of potatoes," Tony shot back.

Steve knew Tony didn't really mind that too much, so he nodded and turned until he could put Tony's back against a wall. Widening his stance and letting go of Tony's legs once he was sure Tony was balanced, Steve reached up to run his fingers through his mate's gorgeous feathers again. "They're beautiful," he said quietly, "soft, strong, and warm, like you. Having them brushing against my skin is one of my favourite feelings."

Tony stared at him for a few seconds, speechless, then cleared his throat. "Okay, I wasn't expecting that."

"You weren't expecting me to love every part of you?" Steve leaned in to trail his lips up the side of Tony's neck, dropping kisses on the delicate skin as he went, ignoring the stubble that pricked at his nose and the smell of his own come. "You weren't expecting me to enjoy the things about you that no one else can match? You weren't expecting me to accept you as you are? You're perfect for me, and I wouldn't change a damned thing."

Tony stared at him some more, pulling at Steve's hair until Steve met his eyes. The disbelief echoed clearly between them, no words needed. Steve huffed at him. "That's what I thought," he said on a sigh, and leaned in to drop a kiss on the point of Tony's chin, pointedly licking at the come still caught in Tony's stubble. "You need a shave."

The comment startled a laugh out of Tony, who relaxed. He used the leverage he had to roll his hips and rub his cock against Steve's bare skin, making them both hiss at the pleasure that sent through them. "What I need is some attention," Tony informed him archly. "Get on with it, or I'll do it myself."

"Demanding, aren't you?" Steve retorted, but he gave his mated what he wanted.

Bringing his hands down, until he could use one to hold Tony's hips steady and the other to take Tony in hand, Steve leaned back in to kiss his way across Tony's collarbone. He paused long enough to leave a hickey off-center, where it wouldn't be incredibly obvious. Tony all but writhed under the touches, fighting to get more, harder, faster.

Under the combined assault of his own enthusiasm and Steve's, Tony didn't last long. What seemed like moments later, he was tensing up, full body, his back arching beautifully as he came, then subsiding, breathing hard.

Steve half expected Tony to try for a second round, but all he did was cling to Steve until they both had calmed down, then gently but insistently peel himself free of Steve's grip. Steve was reluctant to let him go, but he knew better than to try to hold Tony against his will. That wouldn't end well, and there was no way he wanted to sour the mood now. Not when they finally both felt more or less themselves again. 

They spent the next half hour cleaning one another up, and Tony took the opportunity to shave, before they let themselves sprawl out on Tony's bed to rest. It was barely mid-afternoon, but Steve felt worn down to his bones and he could tell Tony wasn't doing much better. Missing Bucky was taking a heavy toll on them both, and doubtless would continue to until they got their third back.

Steve jolted awake to a knock on the door, disoriented. "Wha--?"

"Come down and have dinner," Morita called through the closed door. "You two idiots need food just as much as the rest of us."

Tony groaned and tried to hide his face in the curve of Steve's neck. Steve couldn't help the fond amusement that hit him, and ran a hand through his mated's hair as he replied, "Be there in a few minutes."

Tony made a plaintive sound, but his stomach growled at the thought of food. Steve carefully ignored the hollow feeling in his own stomach as he prodded at his mated. "Alright, on your feet," he said firmly. "You need to eat."

"You need it more than I do," Tony grumbled, but he slowly picked himself up.

"Probably do," Steve conceded, knowing that was true, "so let's go."

They dressed, making themselves presentable, then made their way downstairs and into the kitchen, teased along the way by the smell of food that permeated the house's hallways. When they got to the kitchen, stepping through the door was like walking into a wall of sound and color. Steve watched Tony falter for a brief moment, almost overwhelmed by it, coming hard on the heels of their own emotional reaction to the debriefing and the events that had transpired last night, and put a steadying hand at the small of Tony's back. He felt the deep hitching breath Tony took, and was distantly glad of it.

"Finally," Gabe exclaimed when he noticed them, "sit your asses down! There's plenty of food and Barnes would have our hides if we let you skip meals."

To Steve's surprise, that got a small but sincere chuckle out of Tony.

"He'd be right to, Jones," he shot back. "What good is a team that doesn't look out for each other?"

"Damn right," Morita agreed, and the others all nodded. Rhodes and Jarvis looked particularly offended at the idea that they might let Tony starve.

Without another word, Monty reached out for the serving utensils. Jarvis picked up those next to him, and Pepper followed suit. Bowls of potatoes, green beans, and gravied chicken made the rounds of the table. They ate in companionable silence for the most part, only speaking to request one item or another, until they'd all cleared their plates once. The moment his was empty, Steve found the potatoes all but shoved at him.

Danvers raised an eyebrow at him when all he did was look back and forth between her and the bowl for a long second. "Take the bowl and serve yourself some," she said to him, as though food was somehow a foreign concept to him.

Rolling his eyes at her, Steve gave in. Once he'd taken some, he handed the bowl back to her, hoping she'd fight to find a place to set it down. Instead, all she did was offer it to Dumdum, who happily started refilling his own plate. Undaunted, Danvers repeated the maneuver with the green beans.

Prepared for it this time, Steve simply helped himself to some, then handed the container off to Tony. "I'm not three years old, you know," he commented, careful not to let his voice take on an annoyed edge.

"No, but you've been moping," Danvers shot back, "and that's bad enough. You need to keep your strength up. Both of you."

Dernier caught Danvers' attention, and changed the subject. "Mademoiselle Danvers, je sais qu'il est tôt, mais avez-vous entendu quoi que ce soit de vos contacts?"

She sighed, her eyes dropping to her plate and shoulders bowing. The glimpse of her true feelings made Steve reach out and put a hand over hers. Rhodes took the other and twined their fingers together. It had clearly affected their other mated pair to see Bucky get taken. Once she'd pulled herself back together, Danvers straightened up, shoulders square and chin defiantly held high as though ready to challenge the universe. "No, Jacques," she answered. "But tomorrow morning, perhaps. Have you?"

Steve hadn't realised that Dernier had any contacts to call on, and turned to stare at their demolitions expert.

Dernier shook his head, looking like he wished dearly he could change his answer by force of will. "Moi non plus."

Tony stood abruptly, and walked over to the sink. "I'll be in my study," he informed them as he washed off his plate and utensils. "Got some reading to do."

Jarvis was the one to speak up. "On what?"

"I might have some literature that can point us in the right direction, but first I have to find it," Tony answered, his mind clearly already on this new task.

Rhodes cracked a smile. "That's not a half bad idea, Boss. You thinking about the Andes expedition?"

Steve puzzled over that, wondering what Tony had been doing in South America that could have had anything to do with soulmates. That wasn't one of the Marvels editions he could remember reading.

"Primarily." Leaving the clean dishes in the drying rack beside the sink, Tony gave them all a nod. "Finish your meal. I, I've got to _do something_."

"Don't stay in there all night," Jarvis warned him. "I'll send Rogers after you if you're still searching at midnight."

Steve shook his head. "No need, I'm going with him."

He'd expected knowing smiles and amused glances, but all he got that time were serious nods and approval.


	29. [Bucky POV]

He was dreaming. Had to be.

Everything was shades of blue, his emotions were like distant squads of fighter planes buzzing at the edges of his awareness, and nothing made sense.

Steve and the Howlies were gone, and he was on his own for some reason he couldn't remember. He never operated on his own if could help it. Much less behind enemy lines. That was just asking for a bullet to the back of his head.

Worse, he was missing something. Something critically important. But he had no idea what it was.

He felt like he was jumping from location to location, too, with no memory of how he'd gotten from one to the other. Strangers handed him weapons and photos of targets.

Every time he pulled the trigger he was rewarded, though. It felt good to take out the leaders of the opposition.

One of his targets managed to catch him unawares and shot him. The bullet hit his upper left arm with a crack, shattering bone. He thought he might have screamed. The next time he was aware, his left arm had been replaced with a construction of shiny metal and chrome. It didn't feel any different, which was strange.

Before he could ask about it, his next assignment was dropped in his lap: travel to the outskirts of Paris to find and assassinate a traitor to the French Army.

Once again he felt that same jolt, as though he was moving around the world outside of time. He'd made it from Berlin to Paris in the time it took him to blink.

And, worse, somehow someone had noticed that he was around. He could feel the phantom sensation of eyes on him.

The Asset paused to wonder how that was possible. Who the French had in their ranks that was good enough to spot him. When he chose to be, he was silent and invisible as a ghost.

It didn't matter much. He would make the shot anyway.

Lying prone on a rooftop in the outskirts of Paris, he assembled his rifle and loaded it. A single bullet. He wouldn't need more and after he took the shot, his cover would be blown anyway. The would be no second chance.

The photo of the target felt like it had been burned into the backs of his eyes. It seemed to hover in the corner of his vision, haunting him and bringing with it a strange sense of recognition. As though he'd known the man, or met him somewhere before.

Shoving those thoughts aside -- distractions like that could easily cost him this mission -- he attached the scope to his rifle and sighted through it. He would have to fire through a closed window, and it was just lucky for him that the curtains weren't drawn all the way, giving him a glimpse of the interior of the room. The building itself was small, a multistory house containing four apartments. His target occupied the apartment on the third floor, and would be meeting with someone in the Resistance shortly.

He waited until darkness fell, his sense of time blurring.

The passing hours didn't matter. Only the pivotal moment when his target appeared did.

Eventually, finally, a figure in a long coat and hat that was too short to be his target entered the house at street level, letting themselves in with a key. A minute later, the lights in the target's apartment came up. They weren't bright, but enough to see by.

The Asset took aim at the window, but no one was visible yet. He didn't fire. Patience.

What felt like an eternity later, his target, a middle-aged moustached man, came into view. The Asset waited. If he could get a look at the target's visitor, he could bring back important intel, as well as news of a kill.

The second person in the apartment turned out to be a young lady with curves that the Asset distantly appreciated and hair like flames. A lover perhaps. Certainly a spy. She walked through the apartment, caution in every line of her body, then turned to the window and twitched the curtains all the way closed. Damn her.

The Asset could just barely see the pair of them through the fabric, a pair of shadows cast by the lamp.

He would have only one shot. He had to make it count.

The shadows merged and separated, merged and separated.

Slowly, gently, the Asset chose his moment. Feeling the seconds seem to slow, he pulled back the trigger until he could feel the slight resistance that came right before it broke. When it did, satisfyingly smooth as always, he nearly screamed his frustration.

Somehow, as though she could read his movements more easily than a book, the redhead interfered. She put herself between the bullet and its target, in a move the Asset couldn't have anticipated.

Hadn't anticipated.

This was a total disaster.

After an instant that felt more like it lasted a week, a feminine shriek of pain and a male shout of panic rose, and lights came on in the apartments around him.

With a litany of swears resounding in his mind, the Asset grabbed his weapon and the bullet casing and jumped down from the roof onto a neighboring balcony. He needed to get out of town, and fast. 

He'd failed.

The blue fog that held the Asset seemed to tighten and weigh him down. He'd be punished the moment his handlers could get him back to Commander Strucker.


	30. [Tony POV]

True to his word, Steve had followed him into his study and taken up a position in a chair by the south-facing window. Tony had spent a couple of minutes watching him, then turned his attention to searching his bookshelves. He started with his journals; the expedition to the Andes spanned two of them, thanks to the copious notes he'd taken and the drawings he'd sketched. Rivers, jagged snow-capped peaks, vast forests, waterfalls, exotic birds, temple architecture, Inca ruins, local tribes they'd made contact with... the list went on and on. But somewhere in there were his notes on soulmates. He'd learned a lot about how soulmate bonds functioned from the tribal elders he'd spoken to -- several of them after a rather tense confrontation that had nearly ended in bloodshed -- including how emotion could be felt by the partners the bond joined, even over vast distances. There had been no mention of triadic bonds that he could recall.

But that didn't mean there hadn't been one. Or that the information he'd written down couldn't help them find Bucky.

As he paged through the first journal, making note of the books he'd listed in it as sources, Tony let himself sink into the memories. It had been an eventful trip, successful, for all that he hadn't found what he'd been searching for at the time. In a somewhat ironic twist, if he was right about this, it would help him find what he was searching for now.

About the time he got through the first journal and stood to start gathering his source texts -- well, the ones he hadn't had on loan, anyway -- Steve cleared his throat, getting Tony's attention. "Steve?"

"It's nearly midnight," Steve told him quietly. "Come to bed."

"But--" Tony tried to protest. He wanted to finish what he was doing.

"It won't help anyone if we're overtired tomorrow," Steve pointed out, ever the tactician. "I'm not leaving this room until you do. And besides, either we'll have news from one of our contacts in the morning and have to move quickly to act on it, or you'll have plenty of time to pore over books in the morning, when you're rested and less likely to stare at the words on the page without seeing them." 

And, put that way, Tony couldn't even really disagree. He grimaced, but let the cover of the journal fall closed with a sigh. "Fine, fine. I give."

When he stood, he wavered on his feet, overbalancing slightly thanks to the slight stiffness in his muscles and wings. He'd had to hold them in an awkward position to be able to sit in his chair, but there had been no way he would have been willing to stand as he read.

Steve caught him by the shoulders, steadying him, then turned him toward the door without a word.

Tony let him.

They spent the night tangled together on the bed, limbs and feathers so tightly intertwined it almost seemed like they were one person. It was reassuringly warm, and the feeling of having his mated touching him from his neck to his ankles was working wonders for the tension that had built in him, unnoticed, as he'd read and searched. Tony slept soundly, and woke with the sun.

Steve was still asleep, but Tony had no doubt that he'd rouse soon. If only because he was too warm.

He was proven right under a minute later. Steve stretched carefully, and muttered something unintelligible. His bright blue eyes fluttered open, and he smiled, sending a wash of lazy contentment and affection over their bond. "Morning."

Tony couldn't have held back his smile if the world had depended on it. Leaning in for a kiss and getting a chaste peck, he answered in kind. "Morning."

They took their time dressing, then made their way down to the kitchen. Tony made a beeline for the coffee maker, and Steve shook his head in mock-disapproval. Tony saw the fond smile lurking under the expression, though, and paid it no mind. They were alone for the moment, so he felt no need to play Steve's little game. That would be far more entertaining once the others showed up.

Jarvis and Pepper joined them soon after, just about the time the coffee finished brewing.

Tony made sure he was seated at the table and out of convenient range to be drafted into cooking. The move got him a couple of knowing looks from his longtime teammates, but they didn't protest. Both of them knew that Tony hated cooking. He could do it, but he was only just passable, and made a point to complain about it throughout the day when they made him try to create something that was palatable rather than barely edible.

"Good morning," Pepper greeted them. "I see the coffee is ready and waiting, should any more of our guests appear."

"It is," he replied, and took a sip from his mug. 

Before Jarvis could say anything in response, the phone rang, making all of them jump. Steve was the fastest off the mark, darting out into the hallway to take the call. "Hello?"

There was a long stunned pause, that had Tony gripping his mug hard enough that he swore he heard it creak and taking the few steps out into the hallway to join his mated.

"I see. Thank you," Steve said eventually, and hung up. He was pale and looked like he would swoon, if he let himself.

"Well?" Pepper prompted him, in an attempt to get him talking. "Who was it? What did they want?"

"Remember those POWs we broke out of Peenemünde? The French Resistance general? Delestraint?" Steve asked them.

"I didn't spend a lot of time chatting with him, but he seemed like a solid man," Tony responded, wondering what that had to do with anything.

"Well, apparently someone wants him dead," Steve said, and Tony had to bite on his tongue not to try to hurry his mated along. "They sent a sniper after him, and things came to a head last night. The assassin took a shot, missed, and got spotted as he made his escape."

A suspicion was forming that Tony was _very much_ hoping he was wrong about. "Let me guess. The assassin's description matches Bucky's."

Steve swallowed hard. "It does."

"So what now?" Jarvis put in. "We know he can't be held responsible for what he does while Strucker's manipulating him like a puppet, but no one else does, and we can't go public with that kind of information. It'd cause a panic."

"We have to try to track him and capture him ourselves before Strucker can physically get his grimy hands back on Bucky," Pepper replied.

Steve shook his head. "Buck's one of the best in the world for a reason, Pepper. He can disappear better than anyone else I know of. On or off the battlefield. We're just lucky Strucker didn't send him after one of us."

"Well, waiting for him to make a second attempt isn't going to work out in our favor," Jarvis pointed out. "I'd put a lot of money on Zemo and Strucker as being the ones after Delestraint. HYDRA has been after the leaders of the French Resistance for a long time, now, and we did find Delestraint locked up at Peenemünde."

"That's what makes our contacts suspect it might be Bucky," Steve said on a sigh. "Once they heard the news that he'd been captured and coerced, it made the pieces fall into place."

"Who suspects what about Barnes?" Morita asked around a yawn as he joined them, with Monty and Gabe trailing along behind him.

"We've got a lead," Pepper replied. "Now we have to figure out what to do with it."

"I doubt he'll try again," Monty put in. "Not immediately. His cover's blown, and they're on alert now, looking for him."

Jarvis shrugged. "Or he might try again tonight, when they'd least expect him to. If he's as good a shot as Rogers claims, he could simply pick a spot far enough away that he wouldn't get spotted."

"If they have any brains in their skulls, they'll hide Delestraint away somewhere, preferably in a bunker without windows," Pepper shot back.

Gabe groaned. "It's too early for this. Where's my coffee?"

The comment drew a few chuckles, and they moved into the kitchen. Gabe made a beeline for the pot of coffee and poured off a measure, knocking back half of it in a single pull and then leaning against the kitchen counter with a sound somewhere between pleased and relieved. Morita hip checked him out of the way without much force, then helped himself to some, too. Monty rummaged in the cupboards until he came up with a clean mug and a tin of breakfast tea that they kept around for guests. Gabe, meanwhile, had finished his first mug of coffee, and was pouring himself a second.

About the time the three of them had gotten their morning beverages sorted out, the rest of their respective teams shuffled in, yawning, just in time to do the same in their turn. Once Dernier, Dumdum, Rhodey, and Danvers had settled themselves around the table, Jarvis and Pepper stood and started heating up the stove. It wouldn't be long before someone started demanding food, even with the distraction of the news they'd just gotten.

"Rogers," Jarvis suggested firmly, "tell everyone the news in full. We need to decide what to do, preferably before noon, or we'll lose our window."

That, of course, had the four who'd just entered the kitchen turning to Steve expectantly.

Steve cleared his throat and repeated what he'd said to the rest of them twice already. Tony spent the time watching the others' reactions rather than listening to the words a third time. Rhodey looked unsurprised, as though he'd suspected something like this to happen right from the start. Danvers was pale, horror writ large all over her features. Dernier and Dumdum exchanged a look and a wince.

"So what now?" Dumdum demanded. "We going after him, Cap?"

Tony reached for Steve's hand, and twined their fingers together. It took a lot of his control to hold steady against the strong current of fear, guilt, anger, and grief. Steve was a wreck, no matter how good he was at hiding it. The intensity of the feelings did gradually subside a little, though, and Tony was glad of it. After a minute that felt more like ten, Steve replied, "I don't know that going after him will do us any good. He'll constantly be three steps ahead of us, and that kind of move will accomplish nothing on our parts."

Rhodey nodded. "So are we going after Strucker and Zemo instead?"

Danvers growled a few curses under her breath. "That'd definitely lure Barnes out, but then we'd have to contend with the assholes holding his leash, as well as Barnes himself. You know as well as I do that Strucker won't hesitate to send Barnes after us."

Tony decided it was time to put in his two cents. "What we need," he said, "is a way to mitigate the effects of that Cube, and a way to track Bucky. Preferably both. I might be able to find the latter in one of my books, if I had the time."

"Time isn't a luxury we have, sadly," Monty disagreed, shaking his head. "If we wait even a day, they'll send Barnes out after their next target."

"We don't even know where Zemo and Strucker are holed up this time, though," Morita argued. "We can't just run off into the hills, hollering and hoping we draw their attention."

"No. That would be a terrible idea." Pepper sniffed, plating up three servings of eggs and sausage and handing them off to whoever was closest. That happened to be Gabe and Dernier. They silently handed the plates down along the table. A few seconds later, the next three servings followed. Tony let go of Steve's hand briefly to take the plate offered to him, setting it in front of his mated, then smiled faintly when Steve took his hand back the instant he could.

The phone rang again. That time Dumdum was fastest to react; he got to his feet and answered it. "Hello? Agent Carter, ma'am. One moment." He pulled the receiver away from his ear and called, "Stark, it's for you!"

Tony caught Steve's eyes. "Be a good role model for the others, and eat your breakfast," he suggested, trying to lighten the mood a little, then gently disentangled their fingers.

Morita made an offended sound, but picked up his flatware and started in on his untouched plate. "What are we," he mumbled around a mouthful of eggs, "five year olds?"

Jarvis sniggered at him. "You definitely act the part, at times."

Confident that the ribbing would continue without him, Tony took the phone from Dumdum and greeted Agent Carter. "What can I do for you?" he asked.

Agent Carter sounded like she was rolling her eyes at him as she answered. "You can get your blimp fueled up. We have reason to believe that Barnes is going to go after a highly ranked Resistance member in Paris."

Tony winced. "I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you're too late. That's already happened. He failed, thank God, but I believe someone else likely got injured in the process. Strucker apparently sent him after that guy we pulled out of Peenemünde, Delestraint."

Agent Carter swore a blue streak. "He's alright?"

"As far as we know, both of them are, for now," Tony heard the defeated note in his own voice. "We can't go running off to Paris, Agent Carter, we'd end up just chasing after him, three steps behind and unable to make up the distance. But we have no intel on where Zemo and Strucker are, either, and no better idea of how to get him back."

"Well, that at least I can help with," she replied sounding relieved to have something she could act on. "Strucker was seen last night in Berlin. Zemo doesn't appear to have been with him, however."

"We can't go running off to Berlin, either," Tony protested, horrified. "That would be suicide."

"You'd prefer to give them the chance to use Barnes against us again instead?" Agent Carter asked acidly.

It was Tony's turn to swear. "Of course not! What do you take me for? But we wouldn't stand a chance against all the defensive measures in place between us and our goal. Not with the airship, not with a C-130, not even with a bomber or a fighter plane escort."

He felt a presence behind him -- Steve -- and a hand landed on his shoulder. Agent Carter, unaware of Steve's presence, retorted, "Then you can go in on foot."

"No," Tony disagreed. "That would take far too long. We'd do better to draw them out. Demolish Donar and possibly Emden. Cripple their infrastructure instead of going after Bucky."

"That could work," she conceded. "Get back to me with a more detailed plan before noon, and we'll talk," she said and hung up without another word.

Tony pulled the receiver away from his ear and stared down at it in mild disbelief. "God damn it," he groaned.

Steve pulled him in for a hug. "You leave the planning to us," he said, apparently having overheard both sides of the conversation after his appearance. "Come have your breakfast, then go do your reading."

As they reentered the kitchen, the others were just starting to dry the dishes and put them away.

"What's the news?" Jarvis demanded the moment they were in view.

"Agent Carter wanted to let us know about the possible assassination attempt on Delestraint and send us on to Paris. I had to tell her it was more than hypothetical and refuse. Strucker's been seen in Berlin, but trying to go after him there on short notice would be a logistical nightmare," Tony replied, sitting back down in his place and picking up his fork.

Steve picked up the thread without missing a beat. "So we're planning attacks on Donar and Emden, instead. I think the intention is to make ourselves enough of a nuisance that Strucker sends Bucky after us or comes after us himself."

Tony nodded. "He won't send Bucky after us without coming along to watch. Not after Jarvis and Pepper cheated him out of the chance to coerce Bucky into hurting one of us at Fort Benedictin."

The others exchanged glances.

"And if that doesn't work?" Morita asked hesitantly.

Steve scrubbed at his face with his hands. "We'll figure that out when we get there," he said. "It's not a great plan, but it's got a better chance of working than just chasing after Bucky and being led around by the nose."

That statement got a few winces and growls in reply. The Commandos and Tony's team alike were clearly unhappy with the state of affairs, but no one disagreed with Steve's assessment.

A short silence built and stretched out like taffy. Rhodey broke it when he pulled Carol in for a hug. "Promise me you'll never go evil and try to take over the world, Carol," he requested.

Danvers sputtered and laughed. "If I do, I'm taking you with me," she declared. "I've seen what happens to people who get separated from their soulmates."

Jarvis snorted. "Well, at least we could be sure you both are sensible people."

"Sensible people don't want to rule the world," Monty interjected with a slight amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "They know just how much hard work it is."

"The man has a point," Carol nodded. "Maybe we should stick to keeping your Boss and his soulmates alive. That's difficult enough." 

Tony raised an eyebrow at her, but everyone else in the room was chuckling -- including Steve -- and he couldn't bring himself to bring the mood back down.

He applied himself to his food, and let one of his hands slide down to rest on Steve's knee.

Their plan would work. It had to. There was no other way forward that he could see that had a reasonable chance of working. Much as he'd have preferred to have Bucky back with them posthaste, he knew that trying to chase down their soulmate by going to Paris to pick up his trail would be nigh on impossible.

He was going to need every last iota of patience and self-control he had to pull this off, but, he let himself smile grimly, he had a very good reason to see to it that the German supply lines were crippled. So did his team and the Commandos.

But first, he had some reading to finish.


	31. [Steve POV]

The next two and a half days passed in something of a blur.

Tony had spent them buried in a pile of maps, journals, and dusty old tomes he hadn't looked at in years, searching for a way to use their bond to track Bucky. He'd even found a few hints that they could do it, too, even if they were vague to the point of being nearly useless. Once he'd worked his way through the books he owned, Tony had put out feelers asking about several others that might be more helpful, then settled in to work on his armour while he waited to hear back from his contacts on whether they had or could procure said books for him.

For his part, Steve had spent the majority of his time with his team and Tony's planning logistics and tactics. They'd decided to start with the shipyards at Emden, and plan a single extended mission. Tony, Steve, and the Commandos would take a small boat across the Channel and swim to shore, as they had at Peenemünde, then blow the hell out of the place, starting with the drydocks that were being used to produce the deadly German U-boats. [1]

Once they'd hit the drydocks hard enough to ensure they'd be out of commission even if the rest of the assault failed, Jarvis and the rest of Tony's team would pick them up and the Allies would sweep in behind them to bomb the hell out of the rest of the port.

From there, they'd fly south to Castle Donar and repeat the procedure there, this time with the support of both their teams. Tony would be there primarily to help them ransack the labs for anything useful before they leveled the place.

Two more days passed as they equipped themselves and waited for the Allies to organise the bombing run that would be their back up, this time.

Then, the night before they were due to depart, a piece of news broke that had the world reeling. Hitler was dead, deemed a traitor to his own cause, and Commander Strucker would be taking the reins, as the most qualified candidate.

Tony had been working on his armour at the time, doing the last minute tweaks and adjustments he never could seem to do without, and Steve had been alternating between watching him and reviewing their plan over and over, when Jarvis had burst into the large room with a half-crumpled newspaper in his hand. "Tony! Put that down, now!"

Startled, Tony had dropped his tools to the floor with a pair of loud clangs, and hurried over to meet his old friend halfway, startled by Jarvis' upset. "What is it, old friend? What's-- oh. Holy shit."

That had gotten Steve to stand up and join them. "What--?" He'd started, then caught sight of the headline. "Oh." He heard his voice go weak. "Oh wow. That's not good."

 _HITLER DEAD! COMMANDER STRUCKER ASSUMES CONTROL OF NAZI PARTY!_ it screamed in print large enough to take up a good quarter of the front page.

"Not at all," Jarvis had growled. "And what's worse is that no one managed to get the word out to any of the Allied intel networks before it hit the papers."

Tony and Steve had exchanged a look.

"Must've caught the Germans by surprise, too," Tony'd muttered.

"We're being called to HQ," Jarvis had added. "I think this might call for a change of plans."

Tony had drawn a stuttering breath, then nodded. "You might be right, at that." He'd looked up and caught Steve's eyes and the anguish Steve could see clearly had him more or less rooted to the spot he stood. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Steve?"

The pieces had fallen into place, then. Bucky. Tony thought Strucker might have used Bucky to pull off his coup. Steve had considered the point. "It's possible. We can't assume anything, though. For all we know Bucky's still in Paris trying to get a bead on Delestraint."

Tony had nodded reluctantly, clearly hoping his hunch was correct. "Yeah, you're right."

"If Strucker did get Bucky to do it, at least it's a kill he won't regret," Steve had added, trying to make Tony smile.

Jarvis had cleared his throat and they'd jolted into motion. Tony had put away his tools and Steve had hurried upstairs to put his sketchbook in its usual spot in Tony's -- their -- bedroom. Then they'd gathered the others and hurried off to HQ, to hash out how their plan would need to change with Agent Carter, Colonel Phillips, and Director Fury.

Now, watching the main HQ gates slide past the window on the far side of their transport, Steve tried to marshal his thoughts into some kind of coherent order. The news of the change in Nazi leadership had left him reeling, and he still hadn't quite recovered.

Once the vehicle had pulled up at the HQ doors and come to a stop, the Commandos had climbed out one by one. Jarvis pulled up behind their transport and put their car in park. A corporal, clearly used to their presence and also familiar to Jarvis, stepped up to the driver's side door and exchanged a few words with him as Tony and the rest of his team descended from the car.

As Jarvis joined them and the corporal drove Tony's car off to the motor pool for the time being, one of Colonel Phillips' aides -- Steve wasn't sure of the man's name... Parker maybe? -- had quickly ushered lot of them into a conference room. The trio of their commanding officers were already there, waiting.

Fury gestured impatiently at the chairs ringing the single long table in the room. "Sit down. We got a lot of things to talk about," he ordered gruffly.

Phillips snorted. "That's an understatement, Fury. Rogers, you boys heard the news?"

"That Hitler's dead?" Steve responded gamely. "Yes, sir."

Agent Carter nodded. "Good riddance, I say. The problem is that Strucker will likely be worse. He's a lot smarter, and even if our not-so-beloved Führer was actually quite a good tactician, he wasn't the best at dealing with the details. Just the overview. Strucker... well."

Tony nodded, looking tired. "Strucker is simply insane and willing to burn down everything for the sake of power and revenge."

"Exactly. And that is why we're going to offer him bait he can't resist," Phillips told them, with a hint of a smirk.

Steve wasn't sure he liked the sound of that but Jarvis beat him to the punch and asked, "What did you have in mind, Colonel?"

Fury grumbled something unflattering under his breath. "What he has in mind, Rogers, is to try what Stark did on a larger scale, and I don't like it. It's putting all our eggs in one basket."

"You got a better plan, Fury?" Phillips snapped. "No one knows how he got Hitler out of the picture, and all of our informants in Berlin have mysteriously started vanishing. We have to act now, while we still have halfway useful intel. And that means trying to get him to come to us."

It was not all that dissimilar to the broad outlines of the plan they'd already been working to try to get Strucker to send Bucky after them.

"So just what does this plan of yours entail, sir?" Dumdum chimed in, breaking his silence.

"Yeah, what would we have to do, Colonel?" Gabe lent Dugan his support. Morita and Dernier nodded.

"That is the part my colleagues have not yet been able to agree on," Agent Carter replied, giving the men in question an arch look. "Personally, I'm of the opinion that your plan to take out Emden and Donar should serve our purpose almost unaltered."

Phillips shook his head. "The train lines connecting the Eastern and Western Fronts are more important than a shipyard or a symbolic blow against HYDRA's research division."

"Disabling their capability to produce more U-boats would be just as much of a blow, if not more," Agent Carter pointed out. "Their ability to sink our convoys is one of the biggest logistical and financial challenges the Allied Forces face."

"I still say we should send them after Strucker directly," Fury growled. "You're being too indirect."

Jarvis cleared his throat. "There is no reason that we can't execute all three plans in sequence; if one is not effective we'll move on to the next."

Their three commanding officers exchanged glances, then nodded. Fury was the one to speak. "That's the best idea I've heard in hours."

"That would be a tough string of missions, even for teams of our calibre," Monty said slowly. "We'd need some guarantee of backup, to pull this off. As it is, our plan to deal with Emden feels a bit risky to me. And the idea of jumping right into the next mission after that isn't exactly attractive."

"There's also the matter of our teams being sent out on several missions in the last two weeks without much chance to rest in between. We all need some downtime," Pepper pointed out.

Agent Carter nodded, her expression reflecting how hard she was thinking. "What I'd suggest, then, is a hit on Emden, and a week's furlough, provided you're willing to be on call to deal with any emergencies arising during that time. Will that suit?"

That was more or less business as usual. Steve caught his team members' eyes. "Sounds reasonable to me. You in?" He got nods from everyone, then turned to Tony. "Is that acceptable to your team, too?"

Rhodes gave him a sardonic look. "We're always ready to move at the drop of a hat. We can handle that, no problem."

Tony nodded. "And the timeframe for our assault on Emden?"

Phillips considered that for a moment before he answered. "I see no reason to change the plan. Unless someone has an objection based in logistics or tactics, you're going to Germany the day after tomorrow."

No one spoke up.

"Good luck. Go get yerselves ready, then," Fury suggested gruffly.

"Hope we don't need it," Gabe muttered under his breath.

Steve couldn't help but agree. The brass stood, signaling the end of the meeting, and the rest of them followed suit. Steve saluted, more out of habit than anything else, and then everyone was trooping back out of the room. Several of his team and Tony's had kept their silence throughout the whole meeting, and Steve wasn't sure what that meant, but he intended to find out. Once they had a bit more privacy, anyhow.

He'd wait until they were back at Tony's place. It wouldn't take long, after all.

It wasn't until they were back outside the HQ building, that Tony spoke up. "Captain?"

"Yeah?" Steve gave his mated his attention. "What is it?"

"If you want one, now would be a good moment to stop by your barracks for a change of clothes or uniform," Tony replied.

And damned if that wasn't a good suggestion. Steve hadn't even thought about it, but he had only brought the one with him... whenever it had been. God, it felt like years ago, for all that it had been only a bare handful of days. He smiled ruefully. "Might as well," he agreed. "It's practically across the street from HQ and bringing fresh clothes to wear would be smart."

Jarvis laughed at him. "Go, then. Get your things, and a few of Barnes', and take your team with you. The lot of you are starting to look like you've been on the road for a week."

Gabe sniffed, mock-offended. "Take that back."

Dernier slapped at Gabe's shoulder and turned him toward the base entrance. "Assez, viens. Laisse les se disputer."

Morita shook his head at their antics and followed. "Come on, boys. It'll be a sad day when Frenchie leaves us standing around chattering."

That got them walking, and Steve hesitated. He didn't much want to leave Tony's side, not even now, for all that he was a lot more stable than he had been. He caught Tony's eyes, and told him, "We won't be long. If we're more than half an hour behind you, something went very wrong."

Tony's hand came up and squeezed his shoulder once, reassuring. "I doubt anything will happen, but if it does, we'll step in. Don't you worry, Captain."

Accepting the words for what they were -- a promise to come if he called -- Steve took a steadying breath then gritted his teeth and forced his feet to move, trailing after his men, who were quietly talking amongst themselves. Steve found he couldn't process the words well enough to join in; his focus was elsewhere. Each step almost pained him. It was as if, under the strain of Bucky's absence, the bond between him and Tony was pulling ever tighter. He hadn't felt the near-instinctive urge to be within arm's reach of Tony at all times while Bucky had been with them, but now it was very much in evidence. And it seemed to grow stronger with each step away from Tony. By the time they were at HQ's front gate, Steve felt as though he was fighting against a physical force that was doing its best to haul him bodily back to his mate's side.

It took almost all of his focus not to turn around and sprint back to the motor pool.

"Hey," Monty was suddenly blocking his path, "are you alright, Cap?"

Steve swallowed and tried to find the words to respond.

Dumdum jumped in. "He's not. Where's Jarvis?"

"About fifty meters that way," Morita pointed off at a point somewhere behind Steve.

Steve didn't turn to look. "I'm fine," he managed to say, but more was beyond him.

Gabe scoffed. "You're riding back with Jarvis and the others," he said firmly. "We'll get you and Barnes your things."

With perfect timing, Tony's car appeared, giving Dumdum the perfect opportunity to flag them down. Before Steve really knew what was happening, he'd been bundled into the car, practically on Tony's lap, and they were pulling through the gate. Tony's arms were warm and strong around him, and he tucked his nose into the curve of Steve's neck, sending a frisson of pain and worry over their bond when their skin came into contact.

"You feel shaky," Tony said, all but breathing the words into Steve's ear, sounding like he hadn't been much better off himself.

And, now that he was paying attention, he could feel Tony trembling slightly. Steve shrugged, not bothering to deny it, either. He had been in rough shape. "Better now," he offered instead, and Tony made a slightly relieved sound.

"Me too," came the quiet answer.

Rhodes huffed at them. "My god, you are as bad with Rogers as Barnes, Boss. I'm drowning in sap."

The commentary got amused sounds out of Jarvis and Pepper, in the front seats of the car. Jarvis was more focused on the traffic around them -- London's streets were never quiet, even now that the War threatened them with bombing at any given moment -- so he didn't answer.

With a smile, Pepper turned just enough to meet Rhodes' eyes. "You're no better when Carol is around; you can't throw stones. And besides, it's cute."

Before Rhodes could respond to that there was a loud bang and Jarvis swore. Steve didn't have time to react. The car hit the curb hard, throwing him and Tony against the door, then skidded over something he couldn't see. There was a brief feeling of falling, and then the car was on its roof. Tony was sprawled untidily underneath him, shoving at his hips and making pained noises. Groaning -- he must have hit his head on something -- Steve picked himself up slowly. "Everyone alright?"

Jarvis just waved at him, busy checking Pepper over. She seemed to be out cold. Rhodes didn't answer verbally, but he took a hissing breath and gave Steve a thumbs up.

Good enough. Steve turned his attention to Tony, helping his mated straighten out his limbs, wings, and tail as much as was possible before he tried the door. Tellingly, Tony didn't protest, but made some pained noises of his own in the process. His left wing didn't close completely, and Steve forced his worry over that aside. He needed to get them out of the car first.

Carefully placing his hands and knees, he reached over Tony to the passenger side door, trying the handle first.

It didn't budge.

"Rhodes, does the door on your side open?"

Steve heard the slight click that said Rhodes had tried it, but then nothing. "Nope. It's jammed."

A pair of boots stepped up to the passenger side window, and Steve breathed a sigh of relief. Someone was here to help them, at least. It was a bit surprising that no one had run up to the car until now, but Steve wasn't about to turn his nose up at whatever help they could get. His mated was injured, and so were Pepper and Rhodes.

The man outside turned and picked up his foot, and Steve reflexively curled himself around Tony.

A moment later the window shattered, sending glass shards spraying through the back seat of the car. Rhodes yelped, startled, and Steve guessed he hadn't noticed the man standing outside the car.

What happened next made him stare in disbelief. The man crouched down and wrapped a _metal hand_ around the metal frame of the door.

With a sharp yank, proving that he was nearly as strong as Steve was, the man simply pulled the car door off its hinges.

Steve stared some more.

Their saviour had other even stranger features than just the metal hand -- well, it was a metal arm, really, seeing as it extended all the way up to the shoulder -- he also wore a bizarre mask and what looked like modified flight goggles. His clothes resembled motorcycle leathers, but Steve was sure they were highly customized. On his back, he carried a goddamn anti-tank rifle.

Beneath him, Steve felt Tony shift, carefully and stealthily readying and cocking his pistol. "What are you after, then?" he asked, bold as brass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Okay, so. It's pretty common knowledge that the German submarine deployments -- generally small groups known as 'wolfpacks' -- caused a hell of a lot of trouble to the Allied convoys crossing the Atlantic. What's a little harder to find information on is which submarines (known as U-boats in most places, because that's the German nickname for them) were built where and when. If you're interested in those sorts of details, [This website](https://www.uboat.net/technical/shipyards/nordsee.htm) has a lot of information about it. As to the types of U-boats built there, well. The most common one (possibly the only one, but I'm not sure about that) is the Type VII submarine. [Wikipedia link](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Type_VII_submarine)
> 
> More generally, the shipyards at Emden, also known as the 'Nordseewerke Emden', was founded in 1903 and kept right on building and launching ships right up to 2010. [Wikipedia link](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nordseewerke)
> 
> Click here to return to text.


	32. [Tony POV]

Without a word to them, the hauntingly familiar guy with the metal arm vanished, seemingly into thin air. In a blink, he was sprinting down a nearby alley. By the time Steve had scrambled out of the car and gotten to the mouth of the alley, he was nowhere to be seen.

With obvious reluctance, Steve had let him go in favor of helping Tony and the rest of his team out of the wreckage of the car. At about the time all of them were free of it, the Howlies appeared out of the growing crowd of spectators.

"Stark," Morita greeted him, "how the Hell did you manage to get into trouble on a three minute drive?"

"Wasn't my fault," Tony protested, then bit down hard on a pained hiss when he tried to move his injured wing without thinking.

Steve wrapped an arm around his shoulders, helping him support the wing's weight and hold it still. "Careful," he admonished, "you're hurt."

Tony had to bite back his reflexive protest. Steve had asked him to make some allowances, and he could do that. "It's not as bad as it looks," he said, aware that the bystanders would be watching him intently and taking notes. This would fuel London's gossip rags for at least a week.

Dumdum turned to Jarvis, who was keeping a close eye on Pepper, and asked, "What happened?"

"I'm not sure," Jarvis replied slowly. "One moment everything was fine, and the next the front right tire was gone. There might have been a nail or some other debris on the road."

Monty and Gabe, who'd been peering at the wreckage of the car perked up at that, and focused their attention there. After a few seconds, they exchanged a nod and rejoined the rest of their combined teams. "Let's get you home, Mr. Stark," Gabe suggested, the expression on his face suggesting that they'd spotted something in the wreckage that they didn't want to air openly.

Steve stared them down for a moment before he nodded. "That's not a bad idea."

"It's not too much further," Morita put in. "We can all fit in our transport for those few yards."

It took a little bit of shoving, when the crowd was reluctant to let them through, many of them calling for autographs now that Tony was shown to be more or less alright. The Howlies firmly kept them at bay, though, and Tony was glad of it.

In the end, Jarvis had to pick Pepper up in a bridal carry and hand her off to Dumdum to get her safely onto the transport. The rest of them got in under their own power, and then they were moving.

Tony took a moment to regret the loss of the car. He didn't have a second, here in London, but it appeared he might have to buy one.

It was only once the transport had stopped at Tony's house in Kensington and all of them were indoors, settled in the sitting room that had seen a couple of briefings already, that Steve caught Monty's attention. "What did you find?"

"That was no accident," Monty replied, expression very serious. "Someone just tried to kill the lot of you."

Gabe nodded. "There was a .50 cal bullet lodged in the far side of the wheel well. It was a through-and-through. Punctured the tire twice and made it blow. You're all damned lucky it didn't just punch straight through the chassis and into the car."

"Bordel de merde," Dernier swore, low and vehement. "Savons-nous qui l'a fait?"

Steve's face went through some strange contortions.

Tony decided it was time he spoke up. "Well, I'm pretty sure we saw the guy in the flesh, but I have no idea who he is."

"He had a metal arm," Steve added, sounding dazed, "and his face was covered. Wore something that looked like black riding leathers, and carried an anti-tank rifle on his back."

"And you didn't think that was suspicious enough to go after him?" Gabe exclaimed.

"He disappeared before I could even pick up his trail, and then I had other things to worry about," Steve defended himself.

Morita muttered a few curses under his breath. "Well get on the horn with Carter, or one of our other two COs. They need to know about this, pronto."

"Yeah," Steve nodded, looking like he was a thousand miles away. "Yeah, you're right."

Tony watched him leave the room, looking like he was sleepwalking. That was worrying. Almost moreso than the assassination attempt. His Steve, his cool, collected Captain, was so off balance it was obvious even to someone who didn't know him well, and Tony knew that was a danger sign.

"I'm not even going to ask who would want you dead," Gabe joked.

Tony shrugged, and winced when that made his injury send a wave of pain through his neck, shoulders, and upper back. "It's a surprisingly long list, but I suspect that Strucker is behind this somehow. He's the most likely candidate."

And, of course, saying that out loud made the pieces of the puzzle fall into place. He knew why the guy had looked familiar. Tony swore.

It was Bucky.

That had been Bucky, who'd just shot out his tire and then run off.

He watched as the penny dropped, almost echoing in the others' collective silence, even as he turned the air blue. "Steve--"

"Tony, no," Rhodey grabbed for his elbow. "You're in no shape to go after him."

"I also have the best chance of getting him back," Tony riposted.

"The Cap could do it," Dumdum disagreed. "It doesn't have to be you, Stark."

That sounded like a recipe for disaster. Steve would get badly hurt if they did that, even if the rest of the Howlies went in as backup, and Bucky would blame himself, once they got him back. Not to mention that Steve would be pulling every punch he threw. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to hurt Bucky, regardless of whether Bucky was fighting to kill or not. "I'm sure as hell not letting him go against Bucky alone! Who of all of us is least likely to go down to a sniper's bullet, Dugan? Me or Jarvis. None of the rest of you have a snowball's chance in hell of standing up to an anti-tank rifle in the hands of a marksman of his calibre, and you know that as well as I do."

Morita winced, but he stepped forward to join Dumdum. "You may be right about that, Stark, but you're hurt bad enough you can't fly and you going after Barnes solo is no better than sending one of us after him."

"I'd be next to him," Steve pointed out. "He wouldn't be solo."

"I'm not sure that makes it any better," Monty said on a sigh. "That only makes it twice as likely that Barnes will be very upset once he comes back to his senses."

"Le plus gros problème est le Cube," Dernier said carefully. 

Tony squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. "That's true. It won't matter if we break him free and then Strucker manages to get the drop on all of us again like he did in Germany."

Rhodey stepped up in front of him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Come on, Boss. Let's get your wing strapped up properly. We need you working on how to stop that Cube. The rest of us will handle pinning down your boy until he snaps out of it."

The injury hadn't truly been bothering him until Rhodey had reminded him of it, but now it suddenly throbbed and ached, bone deep. It wasn't broken, but it was very painful nonetheless. Swallowing down his protests, Tony allowed his pilot to steer him out of the sitting room. Steve followed them. He could hear the rest of their combined teams settling in to argue over how to approach their current dilemma and who should be the one to call Agent Carter about this new disaster that had fallen into their laps.

They wound up in the small makeshift infirmary that Jarvis and Rhodey had insisted he had to have, if he wanted to put a machine shop in his basement. It was tucked away in a corner near the stairs that led down to his workshop, going almost unnoticed until it was needed. It was just about the size of a small bedroom, about three meters by four, and only barely big enough for him, his wings, Rhodey, and Steve. But it was as thoroughly and comprehensively stocked as a former combat medic could make it. Jarvis had put everything he could think of into the various drawers and cabinets that lined the space.

Steve didn't hesitate. He simply stepped in behind Tony and lifted him off his feet to put him on the examination table.

That, naturally, didn't go well. Caught off guard, Tony instinctively flailed around in an attempt to keep his balance and knocked Rhodey off his feet with his good wing. The other caught Steve in the face and his mated staggered, nearly falling. He managed to fling a hand out and grab the edge of the doorframe, then righted himself, embarrassed. Straightening his back and working his jaw carefully, he smiled ruefully. "Guess that'll teach me to surprise you," he said. "I'm pretty sure that's gonna turn into a nice shiner."

Tony glared at him. "I swear to God, Rogers, we have _talked about the mother henning_."

Rhodey, who'd watched the whole thing happen, and escaped more or less unscathed, having caught himself on the counter that ran along the wall, broke down into peals of laughter. "I can't believe you two morons just did that." It took him a few seconds to get himself under control. "Hold still now, Boss. Captain, do me a favor and don't do that again."

"Right." Steve actually blushed a little. "Sorry, Tony."

Gritting his teeth against the feeling of hands running over his feathers that didn't belong to either of his mates, Tony nodded shortly but didn't bother trying to speak. Rhodey's examination of his wings felt like it took a month, measured in light pulls, the rasp of fingers running against the grain of the feathers, and spasms of pain that ran all the way down his spine to lodge somewhere right above his hips. But then, at last, it was over.

Rhodey took his hands back, and nodded in satisfaction. "Bruised and possibly sprained but nothing broken. Lucky you." 

Steve physically sagged in relief, and Tony made a note to make sure he got a chance to relax later. He hadn't realised that Steve was quite so tense. "Good."

"Rogers, come help me strap him up," Rhodey demanded, "then we can go check in with the others."

Tony would have preferred to retreat into his study, but that wasn't an option, at the moment. He needed to stay with Steve, and Steve needed to keep up with what his team was planning. He'd do his reading afterwards, he decided as Steve carefully held his wing against his back so Rhodey could strap it in place. It was a tighter fit than the sling he and Bucky had improvised on their first trip aboard the airship, less than a month ago. 

God, thinking about that made him want to cry, despair flooding through him. In comparison to now, those had been innocent carefree times, and he missed them sorely. No doubt Steve did, too.

Their respective teams looked up the moment they walked back into the sitting room, and Morita cleared his throat. "Nothing too serious, then?"

Tony shook his head. "A bit bruised but nothing broken. What did you guys decide, if anything?"

The group exchanged looks and said nothing. After a beat, Morita replied. "Well, we called Agent Carter and caught her up on the situation?"

Steve took that in stride, as he did just about everything. "We can pick it up again later," he said firmly. "We should probably break for lunch anyway."

That got the Howlies moving like the bottomless pits that they all were. Dumdum grinned broadly, and led the metaphorical charge. "First smart thing I've heard anyone suggest so far today."

Rhodey laughed at him. "You gonna cook, Dugan?"

"If no one else will," he agreed readily. "But I'm best at peeling potatoes."

Monty groaned. "If it were possible you'd burn them before they got anywhere near a pan, Dumdum."

Before Tony really knew it, they were in the kitchen and the Howlies had scattered through the space to pull out pots, pans, and ingredients. He had no idea when they'd learned his kitchen inside and out, but somehow they'd done it, even with everything else that had been keeping them hopping. Steve pushed him down into a seat at the table, where he could watch, and joined his team. Steve didn't speak much, but no one really minded. The Howlies filled the room with empty chatter and gossip that Tony didn't pay much attention to. He watched Steve, seeing a bit more of his mated's tension seeping back out of him, as he took part in what had to be a familiar ritual. Bucky was missing, a hole that all of them carefully danced around, well aware it was there but not willing to acknowledge its existence.

Letting the scene lull him, Tony turned his attention back to turning over the fragments of information he'd managed to dig up in his books before this chaos had broken out. He'd read about ways to shield the soulmate bond from being read, keeping physical sensations like pain from transferring. And there had also been a few references to techniques that could be used to locate a missing bondmate. He'd eventually rediscovered the half-remembered story that he'd been searching for. It had been in one of his journals, near the end of the book, where he'd jotted down a tale that had been passed down by one of the tribes he'd spoken to in the Andes. There had been an accident once, where one half of a bond had fallen into a dry well, and been injured, unable to get out. There had been no one around to help. And her bondmate had been able to reach out and triangulate her location, after realising that something was badly wrong.

After a few minutes spent prodding at his bond with Steve, feeling it out, Tony closed his eyes and reached for the empty space where Bucky had been.

It was strangely easy to do, as though Bucky had never actually been torn away from him. But there was a feeling separating them that reminded Tony of seeing a veil draped over something. This veil was very flexible and didn't want to tear, but it felt oddly brittle.

As he messed with the veil, trying to find a way through it or around it, he had the strangest feeling that Bucky was approaching him. It felt oddly like his mated was in a large ballroom with him, and making his way slowly through the other dancers on the floor.

The kitchen window shattered.


	33. [Steve POV]

It had made him a little uneasy when Tony had settled in at the long table and closed his eyes, a look of intense concentration on his face. He'd been able to feel Tony doing... _something_ to their bond, and it had felt bizarre. Like cold non-corporeal fingers sliding up his neck and into his hair. The feeling had given him goosebumps, and sent a visceral shudder through him.

The feeling didn't fade quickly, either. It stayed, lingering almost like a lover's touch, for several minutes.

Dumdum had caught his eyes after the first half minute or so, and raised an eyebrow at him. "Everything alright, Cap?" he asked, an expression on his face that said he clearly knew something was up.

"Fine," Steve answered, swallowing back a rush of words. "Just... whatever Tony's doing feels strange."

"What _is_ Stark doing?" Monty chimed in, curious.

Steve looked over at his mated, and watched him for a few seconds. Tony was still, almost unnaturally so, and looked like he was focused so far inwards he wouldn't hear them even if they shouted at him. "I have no idea," he replied eventually. "He looks like he's meditating, but whatever he's doing, it's making our bond do bizarre things."

Nothing more was said on the topic. Gabe shrugged. "Someone take these carrots and slice them. I'm done peeling."

They'd gone back to cooking, and Steve had let the familiar action soothe his nerves. He was still on edge after their encounter with Bucky under an hour ago, and the Howlies' subsequent attempt to work out how to track him down hadn't helped much. This, though? Having something to do with his hands that would benefit both his team and the mate he still had at his side was letting him calm a lot. It was amazing just how much more like himself he felt, at the moment.

Hell, he felt like Bucky was sitting in the corner of the kitchen and watching them.

The kitchen window shattered, sending a spray of glass shards through the kitchen and sending all of them to the floor but Tony. "Holy--" "-- fuck!" "Down!"

Tony, heedless of danger to life and limb as usual, simply turned to the broken window to stare at it like it held all the answers to every question he'd ever asked.

Nothing happened for a heartbeat that seemed to stretch, and then the window burst inwards as a figure dove through it. Whoever it was -- Steve only saw a blur of black and silver as he turned and leapt for Tony, pulling his mated out of his seat and to the floor -- had the advantage. Not one person in the room was armed or armoured, and Steve had no doubt it was the same person that had shot out Tony's tire earlier.

For a frozen instant, no one moved, and the person straightened out of his crouch, pistol in hand. The Howlies didn't hesitate, bless every last man of them. They leapt at the masked stranger, doing their best to pin him down. There was no doubt that Pepper, Jarvis, Danvers and Rhodes would show up soon, weapons in hand, drawn by the ruckus they were making. All they had to do was keep the guy pinned down until backup arrived. 

Steve tried to urge Tony to his feet to get him out of the kitchen and away from the assassin that had already tried to kill him once and nearly succeeded but his mated had other ideas. He wrapped himself around Steve and leaned _hard_ on their bond.

The icy feeling was back. 

This time it was tinged strongly with a blue that matched the Cosmic Cube, and it was a lot stronger than it had been before. Surprised, Steve hissed, but the only thing he could think about was the idea that Tony could be right about this being Bucky. He took a breath and tried to help. If they could somehow get through...

The sounds of the fistfight on the other side of the table faded into the background and time slowed.

He tried to do whatever Tony had done, fumbling his way through finding their bond and feeling the stunned surprise from Tony at his actions. Instead of reacting with horror and shoving him away though, it felt more like Tony had grabbed his hand and was hauling him back up over a cliff edge to safety. Like his mated was keeping him safe in this arena he knew nothing about.

He had a tough time shutting out the knowledge of the fight that was lighting up the other side of the room and his conflicting needs to keep Tony safe and join his team. When he finally succeeded, it was strange. Oddly serene. Like he'd somehow found a haven of security, and it was shielding him from everything else that was happening in that moment. Steve took a breath and reached for Tony, feeling like he was linking hands with his mated and twining their fingers together for all that there was nothing physical to parallel the sensation. It was an almost absentminded touch, but rife with adoration and quiet want, and it was strange to feel it while he was wrapped bodily around his mated in an attempt to shield him as best he could. 

Then Tony was reaching for the hole in their bond again, and Steve did the same. The icy feeling was back a third time, and Steve had to force back a shiver.

He and Tony reached out into empty air as one and they came up short with a jolt that almost knocked Steve right back out of whatever meditative state he'd managed to reach. That had felt like suddenly slamming into an invisible chain-mail curtain face first.

Whatever was blocking them was flexible but able to resist most attempts to get through. It had the same blue feel that the icy fingers had, and Steve just _knew_ it had to be related to the hold Strucker had on their soulmate. He grabbed a hold of it, with a sensation like bunching up a handful of it in his fist, and felt Tony follow his lead. This time when they hit the barrier together, they actively tried to get through.

Their first attempt did nothing.

A loud crash from the other side of the kitchen was followed by a body slamming into the table and then through it. Steve only distantly registered the noise, but he knew they had to work fast. The longer he and Tony worked at this, the more likely they were to get badly injured or killed, and the same went for the rest of the Howlies.

The second attempt failed, too, even if it did leave behind what felt like a weakness in the mail curtain.

Feet pounding as they ran into the kitchen became audible, and a shout went up from his team, warning their backup. At least one member of Tony's team was here, and packing heat. Steve felt something change behind the barrier he and Tony were tearing at. It was miniscule, barely noticable. But it reminded him of the way he felt when he changed where his attention was focused in battle. That was enough for him. Steve knew. Tony was right, and this was their missing third. It had to be Bucky. And now he was focused on whoever had shown up to help, deeming them to be more of a threat than the unarmed Howlies.

Their third try, though.

Steve thanked every god he believed in and a few he didn't.

The third attempt worked. With a harsh wrench, they tore the barrier wide open, and mentally stumbled back.

The assassin in their kitchen dropped to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

"Well," Jarvis said, as Steve felt the room around them come rushing back into his immediate awareness, "I'd prefer it if you lot didn't to do that again anytime soon."

Morita snorted. "So would we. Cap? Stark? You alright?"

"We're fine." Steve replied, then shook his head to clear it and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Dernier was still lying on the broken table, dazed, and Steve surmised he'd been willing to pretend he was out cold so he could attempt to get the drop on their attacker. The others were scattered throughout the kitchen, hands held to various minor injuries. Monty had a shiner rising on his cheekbone and a split lip. Morita was sprawled out on the floor and holding his left wrist carefully in his other hand; Steve suspected he'd broken it on the assassin's metal arm... or maybe taken a hit from said arm. Dumdum had an arm wrapped around his ribs, and Gabe a cut over his right eyebrow. They both looked a bit blurry. Jarvis and Rhodes holstered their weapons and joined them in the room.

Surveying the room in his turn, Jarvis sighed. "I'm going to have to patch all of you idiots back up, aren't I?"

Dernier got to his feet with a groan, moving slowly and making pained faces. "Ce n'est rien de grave, M. Jarvis."

Tony chuckled. "We got Bucky back," he offered, a wry note in his voice, "and I count that as a net gain. Now all we have to do is deal with getting the Cube out of Strucker's hands. And maybe replace the table and the window."

Monty gingerly approached the assassin. "It pays not to make assumptions," he said gravely, and reached for the mask the man wore. After a bit of fumbling as Monty looked for the catches holding it on, it fell away, revealing a familiar jawline. The goggles followed the same path shortly afterward, and it was undeniable.

"I knew he was a damned good scrapper," Dumdum commented, breaking the almost solemn silence, "but goddamn. He managed to hold us all off at once."

Tony huffed and prodded at Steve. "On your feet, Captain," he said with a hint of a relieved smile tugging at his lips, "and give me a hand up. We need to get him to a bed and make sure we've got him back properly."

Gabe gave them the stink eye. "Stark, now is not the time to seduce him."

Tony sputtered wordlessly, trying and failing to find a response. Steve couldn't help laughing at them both, knowing he probably sounded more than a little bit hysterical. It had been a hell of a day, and he felt like a wreck of a man -- probably looked the part, too -- but somehow despite that his team still thought he had the energy for sex. Steve wasn't sure whether it was more appropriate to be flattered or to wonder what the hell Gabe thought his priorities were.

Jarvis sighed, sounding put-upon. "Leave them be, Jones. Tony is entirely correct about the need to reinforce their bond, though I wouldn't recommend that kind of activity."

Climbing to his feet, Steve waited for Tony to roll onto his stomach and push himself to his hands and knees. From there, Tony managed to get himself more or less upright, though his wings got in the way. The one strapped to his back to protect it from further injury made him awkward. Steve offered him a hand up, and was relieved when Tony took it without hesitation, wrapping his hand around Steve's forearm. He mirrored the gesture and pulled, hauling his mated all the way to his feet.

Tony's good wing flared and his free arm shot out to keep him balanced, and he nearly swept Jarvis right off his feet. Both of them ignored that, though, and, once he was steady, Tony didn't hesitate. He made his way around the wreckage of the table to Bucky, not letting go of Steve's hand.

As they picked up their unconscious soulmate, Rhodes nodded and made for the doorway. "Carol? Pepper? It's under control," he called, "but we might have to see about buying dinner."

"Don't tell me," Pepper responded, "the kitchen is half-destroyed."

"'Fraid so," Rhodes said with a resigned note in his voice.

Dumdum interjected, "The house is still standing. That's an improvement on some of our evenings."

"Yeah," Morita grumbled, "but usually the house that's in ruins used to belong to our enemies."

"So go back to your barracks," Jarvis suggested, voice desert dry. "Complaining about it isn't going to fix the window or the table."

Steve knew his mate's focus was on Bucky. He wasn't much better off, himself, but the need to be aware of his surroundings was keeping him at least somewhat alert. He watched as Tony ignored them all, wholesale, crouching down without letting go of Steve's hand to roll Bucky onto his back and run his fingers through their mate's hair. He was silent, but to Steve the gesture so clearly asked 'what did they do to you?' that it might as well have been shouted. Tony was reeling, and Steve could feel it. If he was any judge, the memories of whatever had been done to him at Donar those few short weeks ago had to be rushing back and threatening to drown him.

"C'mon, Tony," he said quietly, "I'll take Bucky. You get the doors. We'll be upstairs, Jarvis."

A bit reluctantly, Tony stood, taking a deep breath and nodding. "Alright."

Steve gently took his hand back, then crouched down and hauled Bucky over his shoulders in a fireman's carry, his left arm around Bucky's leg and his right hand around the metal wrist. It felt absolutely foreign and disorienting to have his hands on what ought to be skin and feel nothing from his mated. For all he knew, based on what his senses were telling him, he might as well be holding a fork. Steve wanted to scream. Bucky had been taken and mutilated -- likely tortured by Zemo and Strucker. Hell, the torture the pair of them had dreamed up might well have been the reason why Bucky had gotten the metal arm.

He wobbled a little as he stood, the thought that Bucky might have been tortured and injured to the point where he'd _lost his arm_ too much to bear. Tony grabbed at his belt before Steve could go back to his knees under the weight of the idea, wordlessly steadying him in turn with understanding in his eyes, and then they were moving.

Steve followed Tony out of the kitchen, doing his best to shove his thoughts aside. Needing to clear his mind of them.

He'd have to be calm when Bucky woke.

If he wasn't, the whole situation could easily spiral out of control, and he knew it. He could feel it. The atmosphere was charged, and wouldn't ease until Bucky was aware and lucid again. Steve had no doubt that whatever Strucker had done, it had left Bucky with no free will. He'd felt it himself at Fort Benedictin. Bucky was going to be upset when he woke, and if he and Tony couldn't keep their third calm...

Steve winced.

"Stop it," Tony broke into his thoughts, as they reached the foot of the stairs and started climbing them. "I can feel you worrying from here."

"Can't help it," Steve replied with a sigh, automatically putting one foot in front of the other.

Tony turned and gave him a wry smile. "I know what you mean, but it won't make the situation any better."

"And just how do you plan to stop me?" Steve asked, more out of habit than anything else. He wasn't actually looking for a serious answer. He didn't know what to do himself, after all, and Tony didn't have all the answers, no matter how hard he pretended to, most of the time.

Tony turned to him and said solemnly, "I am going to help you strip him down, then strip _you_ down, and tuck you in together."

That sounded like a slice of heaven, actually. Steve almost missed the last step, distracted by that prospect, and stumbled into Tony. They fetched up against the wall, and Tony grunted, slightly pained, then shoved at him.

Steve gingerly straightened up, making sure not to let himself overbalance again. "Oops?"

Tony huffed at him. "I know you like that idea, but that's no reason to tackle me."

Bucky made a quiet sound, where he was draped over Steve's shoulders, and Tony jolted back into motion. "Right, better hop to. He's coming 'round."

Luckily, they made it through Tony's bedroom door without any further mishaps, and Tony helped him lay Bucky out on the bed so they could start working him out of his combat gear. The first thing was the harness he'd been keeping that damned anti-tank rifle on. The weapon was still intact, and heavy enough that Steve grabbed for it rather than let it fall to the floor. Once he had it in his hands, he stared at it for a moment. It was a bit surreal to hold the thing that had very nearly killed him and Tony bare hours ago.

While he stared at the gun, Tony started working at the buttons and snaps holding the strange one-armed combat jacket on.

Feeling almost numbed by the weight of the weapon he held, Steve set it down where he could lean it against the wall, out of sight in their closet. He sure as hell didn't want to see it, and he doubted either of the others would.

"Steve?" Tony called to him the moment it left his hand, shattering the moment, "come here and help me get him out of this thing."

"Right." He shut the closet door firmly and turned back to his mates. Bucky was making strange strained faces, as though he was trying to wake up and not quite managing. Tony was kneeling at Bucky's back, working the jacket slowly and gently off over Bucky's limp arms. It was taking him a while, because he had to brace Bucky's not inconsiderable weight to do it.

Going to his knees at the edge of the mattress, Steve yanked his own shirt off over his head and reached out to pull Bucky toward him. The touch of Bucky's skin on his was like ice, and sent a shiver through him, but he didn't let go. He wasn't ever going to let go. Not even if someone tried to force him into it.

Never again.


	34. [Bucky POV]

It was like a veil had lifted. The blue was gone, and so were the echoes of the voices telling him what to do.

He could hear and feel and smell his soulmates again.

Steve was pressed tightly to his back, naked as a jaybird, and had his arms wrapped around Bucky's waist possessively, dead to the world. Tony was plastered to his front, one wing strapped to his back and the other was arched up just enough to cover all three of them like a blanket.

Had it all been a dream? It sure felt like one. It felt like he'd fallen deeply asleep right after they'd gotten out of Benedictin, and just stayed that way right through the trip to Tony's house in Kensington.

And yet.

Tony hadn't been injured at Benedictin. Strucker had been pinning him in place, but he hadn't been hurt. And Steve looked like he hadn't slept more than a couple hours a night in a week. And then there was the way he could only distantly feel his left arm. It felt like someone had taken it off and put it a mile away, but left the nerves connected by radio. It didn't feel injured, but something was _off_. He couldn't see the limb, though, since it was pinned quite firmly under Tony.

Not wanting to wake either of his mates, who both clearly needed the rest, he shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable again. His thoughts were a tangled mess, but he had no idea what to do about it. He wanted to ask Steve and Tony what the hell had happened. How they'd gotten loose of Strucker's hold. What had happened. He couldn't remember and that was worrying in a way few things were anymore.

His hands clenched unconsciously.

Tony made a surprised and somewhat pained sound, and his eyes shot open. "Bucky?"

Bucky forced his hands open again, belatedly realising he'd had his hands around Tony's. Or, perhaps more accurately, that Tony had been holding his hands. "Mornin'," he rasped, only realising how thirsty he was, when he heard his own voice.

Tony untangled their fingers and legs so he could roll onto his back and grab for the glass of water on his nightstand.

That simple movement had Bucky questioning his sanity. Or maybe it was reality. His left arm was _made of metal_.

"Bucky?" Tony's voice was distant, and Steve's hold on him tightened as he woke. "Bucky, come on, breathe, you're alright."

Was he panicking? He was probably panicking. Everything felt muffled and faraway and the only thing in sharp focus was the _metal arm attached to him_. It responded as naturally and fluidly as his right arm, but he could feel the increased strength, and the weight of the mass of aluminum and steel.

"Come on, Bucky," Tony tried again, reaching out to put a hand on his face. "Look at me."

He tried. The wave of calm Tony sent him called to him like a siren song, but he knew that arm. He'd seen it in his dream. Was it all real? Had he let Strucker use him as a goddamned windup toy with a gun?

"Bucky!" Steve tried to get his attention that time.

Steve's attempt bounced right off him.

Had he really shot out the tire of _Tony's car_?

God, he was a monster. How could he allow himself to do that, even in a dream? Why was he even here, and not rotting in a cell at HQ where he belonged?

He couldn't hold back the hoarse sob that tore free of him. It felt like a punch to the solar plexus. It winded him and he felt like he couldn't get any air, and that was okay, that was fine. He didn't deserve any. Not after what he'd done.

"Bucky!" Tony sounded distraught, now, and that wasn't good, Tony shouldn't feel bad. He'd done nothing wrong. "Damn it, I knew this would happen."

"Fucking hell," Steve swore, the vehemence in his voice making Bucky want to laugh. That summed everything up pretty nicely.

His vision was starting to tunnel down, but Bucky didn't mind. He didn't want to remember what he'd very nearly been coerced into doing. He'd come within inches of murdering his soulmates. If that wasn't enough to damn him to burn for eternity, he didn't know what would be.

"Steve," Tony said as he grabbed for Bucky's hands again, the urgency in his voice clearly audible, " _together_."

Bucky felt Steve take a deep breath then nod.

"Together," Steve agreed.

Bucky had no idea what that meant, but before he could work it out he had the strangest feeling that two pairs of hands were reaching out over the bond and hauling him back up out of the deep despair and loathing he felt were the appropriate reactions to what he'd very nearly done.

When his vision opened back up and his breathing evened out, Bucky realised that his face was wet.

"There you are," Tony reached out and used a gentle touch to tilt his chin up, and Bucky wanted to flinch away from the worried expression on his mate's face. "Better?"

"For now," Bucky said, for all that he had to force the words out. He let himself lean back against Steve's chest, exhausted. "You --"

Tony cut him off with a look and reached for the glass of water again. "No, stop right there. We'll talk about me later."

He didn't normally keep a glass by the bed, so it must have been placed there by someone else for whatever reason. Turning back to Bucky, Tony handed it over and coaxed Steve into letting go long enough for Bucky to sit up a little. Draining the glass in two long pulls, Bucky made a relieved sound. That helped a lot. Considering what had just happened, and Tony's words, Bucky chose a different approach. "So... How'd I get here?"

His soulmates exchanged a look that spoke volumes, and winced, then Tony took a steadying breath. "Well, let's start at the beginning," he said quietly, "It's been almost exactly a week since we went to Fort Benedictin. That's where -- and when -- Strucker snatched you away from us. We don't know for sure what happened while he had you, but two days later we got a report from contacts in Paris that someone matching your description tried to kill Delestraint."

Bucky couldn't help the way his breathing sped up again in reaction to that. It matched up with what he'd thought -- no, _hoped_ \-- he'd dreamt, and that was not a good sign. "And then?"

"We tried to work out how to get you back without going to Paris and praying we could pick up your trail," Steve answered simply. "We were going to go demolish Emden to try to lure Strucker out."

Tony nodded. "That got derailed, though. Hitler got assassinated; we don't know who did that but our suspicion is that it was you again, because Strucker picked up the reins in Berlin, without meeting much resistance."

Bucky shuddered. "Yeah, that was me," he confirmed. He didn't feel too terrible over that kill but the fact that it had been something he'd had to do against his will soured any feeling of relief or triumph he might have gotten out of the knowledge. "And then Strucker sent me after my own goddamn soulmates. I nearly killed you both, and everyone else in that car besides. My orders were to leave no witnesses."

Steve's arms tightened around him protectively, as though he thought he could ward off Bucky's emotions with his muscles. 

It was a move that was so very _Steve_ , that it sent a very physical pang through Bucky. "I'm still not sure why I stopped," he added quietly.

Tony drew a shuddering breath. "Doesn't matter why you stopped. Only that you did. You missed Delestraint, too. Your only confirmed kill under Strucker was the Führer, Bucky."

The flat statement, the confidence Tony had in his answer, nearly brought Bucky to tears. He didn't deserve the forgiveness he heard there.

"You did nothing wrong," Steve put in, breaking his silence and sending an overwhelming amount of reassurance over their bond.

Tony reached out and put his hands on either side of Bucky's jaw, his callouses rasping against the stubble there, and the tenor of the emotions swamping him subtly changed to contain some understanding and sympathy. "Bucky," he said slowly, "we didn't tell this story when you found out about Virgil. We told you about how, when I fought MODOK, he never challenged me to solve that crazy riddle. Do you want to know what really happened?"

He wasn't sure what this had to do with anything, but it was enough of a change of subject that he was willing to roll with it. "Go on," he said quietly.

"Rhodey, Virgil and I were working our way through an old Aztec temple, at the time. It was nearing midnight, and we'd been in there all day and all evening working our way past the puzzles and traps, in an attempt to get to a ritual dagger said to have been possessed by a spirit powerful enough to grant nearly any wish the bearer made, should he or she be deemed worthy."

Steve was intent and focused, listening carefully, as he had the night Tony had told them about Virgil. Bucky knew that likely would always happen when Tony told them about his adventures. "So what happened?" he asked the obvious question.

"MODOK got to it first." Tony answered with a wry smile. "He got to it and made his wish, and suddenly he had the power to control people with his mind, if he chose."

Oh shit.

Bucky swallowed hard. "He tried to control you, didn't he."

Tony nodded. "He succeeded, too. Took control of all three of us, then forced me to shoot at Rhodey. Wanted me to kill him. Thank all the gods, I managed to pull it enough to make it a graze. The pain of it was enough to break his hold on Rhodey, though, and he shot the idiot brainiac in exchange. Just aimed a bit better than I did." Tony paused for a long moment, remembering, and trying not to let his guilt rise back up. "Took a while for Rhodey to forgive me for that one."

"So if you know how this works already, why did you forgive me so easily?" Bucky demanded. "You should hate me. What I did is so much worse than what you did, but you're not even waiting an hour after I wake up to tell me this?"

Tony rolled his eyes at him, but Bucky could feel the undertone of fondness. "I'm telling you this because I know what it feels like. Because I know what it is to feel guilty over nearly getting someone I care about a lot killed. I know _exactly_ what that's like, Bucky, and, take it from me, what you did? That was not your fault. It wasn't your will or intent. It was Strucker who pulled that trigger, not you." 

His next breath turned into a sob, and somehow Tony ended up in his arms. Bucky wasn't entirely sure how or when that had happened, but he didn't really much care, right then. Tony's words had broken through the careful walls he'd been unconsciously holding around his emotions, and now they were collapsing. For what felt like an hour, he poured out his anger over what Strucker had done to him, his lingering fear for his mates, and all the tangled up feelings he couldn't even name.

Steve and Tony held him through it, shoring him up when he sobbed so hard his whole body shook with it and his breath came too short.

When the storm subsided at last and he relaxed into Steve's arms, exhausted and sore, Steve tucked his nose into the hollow behind Bucky's ear, and said, "It doesn't matter to us that you tried to kill us, Buck. We know just how strong of a hold Strucker can get on people with that Cube. We felt it ourselves. We're not angry at you, and there's nothing to forgive. It's Strucker we're angry at."

"And how," Tony muttered darkly, his rage obvious. It burned like a coal, and Bucky was almost afraid of him in that moment. Tony was not to be trifled with, and he knew that. As caring and warm as he was with his family and friends, he could also be fearsome when he chose. When he felt he needed to be.

Bucky pulled him in closer. "I-- Tony, I--" he tried.

The words got Tony gently fingercombing his hair again, though he avoided the side of Bucky's head that Steve had claimed. "It's okay," he said quietly, "rest. We were supposed to head out to Emden tomorrow night, but I think that's going to have to be postponed, in light of what's just happened. One of the others will let the brass know. And then find us if we're needed. For now, there's nothing you need to worry about."

Steve nodded, rubbing his nose against Bucky's skin in a way that tickled just enough to make him want to twitch away. "Are you hungry, Buck?"

"Thirsty," he said, "but not enough to want to move."

Tony tucked himself closer, and the harsh glowing coal of his anger faded away into concern Bucky wasn't sure he could accept. "Alright, we'll feed and water you in half an hour, then," he decided. "For now, we are going to stay right here and do nothing. And before you start arguing with me, it's not because of you. We need to touch you, after what happened."

That... damn it, he was an idiot. "It hit you hard, didn't it," he asked, feeling the guilt rise back up to try to choke him.

"It did," Steve admitted. "We were a wreck. But now we can fix that."

"Normal bonds take about a month of consistent contact and calm conditions to settle enough that separation doesn't cause problems. There've been all kinds of studies on that," Tony put in, backing up Steve neatly with science. "It's one of the few well documented phenomena involving soulbonds. And we haven't had more than maybe two weeks together, all told, much less two calm weeks. So we need to reconnect. All three of us."

Bucky groaned and tried to hide his face in Tony's strapped up wing. The move reminded him that the injury was one he was almost sure he'd caused, even though he knew Tony would never admit it, if it was. With feathers tickling his closed eyelids and his nose, he muttered. "Might be best if you just didn't bother, keep things up with Steve and forget me."

The sharp snap of negation he got from both of them across the bond made him jolt, physically.

"No." Steve's arms tightened around him, making Bucky shudder.

"Never." Tony pulled back insistently until he could force Bucky to meet his eyes. "I know that's the lingering guilt talking, but stop that shit. I love you and went to a lot of trouble to get you back. You're damned well staying right the fuck where you are, and if I have to tie you to the bed to get you to do it, I will."

Steve didn't bother voicing his agreement with that particular sentiment. He just rolled Bucky until he could pin him to the mattress and kiss the breath right out of him.

Bucky didn't have it in him to resist. He let himself fall wholeheartedly into the kiss. He'd only rarely gotten those from Steve in the first place, even after they'd gotten together, and he wasn't about to let this one end anytime soon.

Tony just let his hands trace aimless lines over Bucky's torso and kept talking. "If you could see yourself, Bucky, you'd never say something like that. You're the kind of catch everyone dreams of, scars or no." His mated's fingers lingered where the metal arm met his shoulder. "And the man behind the looks is just as much of a treasure. You have no idea how rare a find you are. How difficult it is to meet even one person who is genuine and caring in the ways you are. And I got lucky enough to be soulmated to someone like you. That is something I intend to keep even if I have to set fire to my world to do it. The houses, the cars, the money, fuck all of it. I have everything I need right under my fingertips."

The kiss finally broke then, and Bucky found tears welling up in his eyes again, albeit for a very different reason. He fought for air, fruitlessly doing his damnedest to find the words to respond.

Tony didn't give him the chance, shouldering Steve out of the way in a move that felt more like a gentle shift than a shove. Steve moved with it in easy synch, and then Tony was kissing him senseless, while Steve talked.

"Buck, you've always been everything to me. Long before we had any idea we'd be at war or even a part of it, I knew I'd move heaven and earth to be with you. When you were drafted and I kept getting turned down, it was almost enough to drive me to despair. To the point where I jumped at the slightest chance I was offered to find you again, and to hell with the risks. It changed me, a lot. But it was worth every bit of pain and every hour I spent searching. I love you and I do not give a single solitary fuck what I have to do to get you home to me."

Faced with that kind of declaration -- in duplicate, no less -- Bucky gave in. They might be reckless idiots, but they were _his_ reckless idiots, and if they didn't let him leave to keep them safe from himself, well, he would just have to find a way to off Strucker. That was the only way forward that he could see.

He was probably going to have nightmares about succeeding in killing the pair of them. Hell, he'd probably have them for the rest of his life. But they'd all survived so far, and he intended to keep it that way.


	35. [Tony POV]

Having Bucky back with them was a relief of the highest calibre, even as distraught as their third was. The thought made Tony burn with the need to find Strucker and blast him to atoms. What he'd done to Bucky was inexcusable, and Tony intended to get his pound of flesh. After everything that Strucker had done to him and his little family, Tony knew he would feel very little regret about putting the man six feet under.

Zemo would follow his commander, if need be, though Tony would really prefer it if the man wearing his father's body simply vanished into anonymity to live out his days as a nonentity. Despite knowing as intimately as he did that Zemo was not his father anymore, and never would be again, Tony couldn't bring himself to kill the man. Maybe that made him soft-hearted, but, well, a man had to maintain some ethics and standards or he was no better than the Nazis he fought.

Bucky mumbled something unintelligible and tucked himself closer to Tony with the arm and leg he'd flung over his mated, still dead asleep. Steve caught his eyes, amusement in his expression. Tony smirked back at him, but kept silent. He had no intention of waking Bucky. Not now. It had taken a while for their mated to settle enough to let his eyes fall shut. He and Steve were in much better shape, despite everything they'd fought through to get Bucky back.

Tony couldn't be sure, what with the effects of the Cube sending normal human physiology and bond responses out the metaphorical window, but he suspected that their mated had felt the effects of the separation as keenly as they had but not been allowed to react. That Bucky had been just as upset as he and Steve had about being far from his mates while he'd been in the Cube's thrall, and that the Cube had mitigated the effects of the separation somehow. That once he'd been freed of the Cube's hold, Bucky had suddenly felt a sizeable portion of that upset, all at once.

After all, Bucky had killed before. Knew how he reacted to doing it and how to cope with missions that required him to take someone's life. What had happened when he'd regained consciousness had been nothing like that. That had been a Bucky who'd been unable to cope at all, and it had been beyond obvious. Towards the end of their little talk, Bucky had calmed a bit, but it had taken another half hour for his eyes to slowly flutter closed.

Thankfully no one had interrupted them, either.

Tony forced down a shudder; he was sure beyond any shadow of a doubt that if any of the Howlies had come in, injured as they had been by their little kitchen brawl with him, Bucky would have spiraled even farther into the mire of despair and self-hatred he'd hit soon after waking. It would have been very stressful for everyone involved.

And that wasn't going anywhere near the issue of whatever that metal monstrosity was that Zemo and Strucker had somehow glued to Bucky's shoulder.

Whatever it was and however it had gotten there, it seemed to be functional, which was good. It was great. The problem was... Tony was sure that its _installation_ \-- the word came out as a sneer, even in his head -- had been anything but painless. There was likely to be lingering trauma, and maybe worse. Knowing their adversaries, they had probably done this for their own amusement. To see if they could. Much like what they'd done to Tony, just... more lethal. That arm, artificial or not, functioned as well as -- or perhaps better than -- the organic one.

It wouldn't be worth removing the thing, though. That would accomplish nothing except to leave Bucky down an arm, and Tony knew they would need their third at his best to help them take out Strucker and Zemo. Much as he'd prefer to tear the vile thing away from Bucky, with his teeth, if necessary, Tony had to hold back. He had to keep himself and his emotions in check until they'd dealt with their enemies once and for all. And perhaps even longer than that, if he couldn't find a way to get Bucky's flesh and blood arm back. (He had to admit to himself that that was not a wish he would be able to bring to fruition short of a goddamn miracle.)

Swallowing down a frustrated growl, Tony took a deep breath then tried to force as much of his tension away as possible as he exhaled.

Steve noticed. A hand tangled itself in his hair, the pressure on his scalp just enough to be reassuring.

It took him a few minutes of closing his eyes and forcibly _not thinking about what had been done to their third_ to unwind enough to get a few winks of sleep himself. The hand in his hair helped, a lot, a tangible reminder that he had both of his soulmates back in his bed, where they belonged.

When he jolted awake again, the window was dark. Night had fallen, and someone had drawn the curtains. Bucky was still curled up in his arms, but this time he was awake. Steve was nowhere in sight, but Tony could hear the sink running.

"Tony?" Bucky asked for his attention, his voice quiet.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Tony ran his hands through Bucky's tangled hair. It was longer than it had been, and desperately needed to be washed and combed but Tony didn't give a rat's ass right then.

Bucky shuddered, hard, then said something that woke Tony better than a shot of coffee. "Don't go to Emden," he demanded, still quiet but very intense now.

"Why not?" Tony asked carefully. "Do you know something we don't?"

"It's a trap," Bucky told him, and Tony nodded. He'd expected something of the sort. "After Donar and Peenemünde, Strucker increased the security on what he considered crucial installations and supply lines. You'll be walking into a fight against overwhelming odds, and they'll be expecting you."

That... Tony winced. That would end very badly for them. The Howlies were a team that relied on the element of surprise to pull off their missions. They simply didn't have the numbers or resources to take on a frontal assault or head-to-head fight of any kind. "Shit."

Steve appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, shaving cream on his neck and jaw, and his razor in his hand. "What would you do instead, then, Buck?" he asked.

"I--" Bucky stumbled. "I don't know."

Tony felt the surge of guilt that almost overwhelmed Bucky before he asked, "How badly did I bang up the others?"

"Nothing permanent," Steve replied immediately, certainty like bedrock underlying his words, "a few bruises and sprains. Dernier might have to rest for a couple of days before he can move easily, but that's about it. You were holding back."

"Steve--" Bucky started, but Steve cut him off with a sharp hand gesture.

"No. Shut up. You were," Steve said with the air of a man explaining something that should have been obvious. "With that arm and the weapons you were carrying, you could have blown the kitchen and half the house to smithereens, but all you did was start a brawl."

Bucky made a pained sound and buried his face in the curve of Tony's neck rather than reply.

Tony ran a hand up and down Bucky's spine, offering comfort. "Steve's not wrong about that," he said carefully, "you were still wearing that anti-tank rifle in a harness on your back. You could have just shot me through the window, if all you were after was a kill. Steve too, probably. You didn't. You gave us an opening and let the Howlies buy us enough time to get through to you."

Taking a shuddering breath through clenched teeth, Bucky viciously throttled back whatever he was feeling. Tony let him, then wrenched the discussion back on track. "What can you tell us about the updated defenses?"

The room was silent for a few long seconds. Tony let Bucky work through whatever he was feeling; he couldn't untangle the muddle of guilt, anger, and protectiveness, so all he did was keep carding his fingers through Bucky's hair. 

"Nothing specific," Bucky said eventually. "I don't know anything about the increased troop counts, rockets, possible squadrons of fighters, or anti-air measures. Or anything else. That wasn't something that I needed to know for them to send me after their targets. All I know is what I overheard about them basically shuffling around their defenses to focus on their manufacturing and supply lines. Going against their new defenses with a team as small as ours would be suicide."

Steve nodded. "That's more than enough for us to work with, Buck," he said calmly, working through the implications for their plan. "We'll have to let Agent Carter and the brass know."

"Definitely," Tony agreed. "We might have to play this like Peenemünde and get the Allied Armies to back us up. I'm pretty sure they'll agree that stopping Strucker and Zemo is a priority. And on the off chance that they don't, we'll figure something out. Might not be a direct assault, or even an indirect one, but that's fine."

His mated slumped against him in relief. Tony felt Bucky's arms tighten around him and used the hands he had in Bucky's hair to pull his mated up for a kiss. The touch made Bucky gasp and sent confusion rushing through him, followed by a shock of lust so strong it made Steve whine and take two steps toward the bed before remembering that he still had shaving cream all over his neck and jaw.

Tony didn't draw the kiss out. He didn't push. After a few seconds, he pulled back and gathered Bucky up in his arms and rolled onto his back so that he could cocoon them in his uninjured wing, like he'd done for Steve... whenever it had been. "You okay, sweetheart?"

"No," Bucky choked out, "but I will be."

That was more than enough for him. Tony felt a rush of relief himself that might have made his knees weak had he been standing. "Good. I'm counting on that."

Steve laughed at him, the sound short and a bit stressed, but a laugh nevertheless. "You sure know how to romance a guy, Stark."

Bucky freed a hand long enough to slip it between Tony's long primaries and flip Steve off. "Rather hear that than sweet nothin's right now, Punk," he grumbled, as he took his hand back and settled the feathers back into place.

"Sure, sure," Steve shook his head at their soulmate, but a true smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'll be back in a few."

Tony caught his eyes and nodded. "Go finish cleaning up, then get back here," he demanded. "I need to get my hands on you, too."

A comfortable silence built between them for a while before Bucky spoke up. "Tony?"

"Hm?" He didn't bother searching for words, preferring to take the opportunity to draw his lips and the tip of his nose up the column of Bucky's neck.

The move sent a shudder through his mated, but Bucky wasn't distracted enough to give up the line of questioning he had in mind. "What did you mean when you said 'together'?"

Tony didn't bother to hold back his smile as he answered. "We got you back together, broke through whatever hold Strucker had on you. Hauled you back out of whatever that spiral was you were in, too. Together means together. We're soulmated."

Done speaking, he settled in to idly suck a bruise into the delicate skin of Bucky's throat, getting a hitching whine in response. 

Steve put in his two cents. "Exactly. We both tried separately, and failed. Together... we didn't."

Bucky threaded his hands into Tony's hair and tugged gently until he let Bucky pull him away. "But... how does that even work? What did you do?"

"No clue," Tony replied. "It was more of a hunch than anything. I got the idea from one of my expeditions. About twenty years ago, I made a trip to the Andes researching soulbonds and how they were described in local lore. One of the legends was about a soulbonded pair that found each other again after one vanished and got injured."

"As for what we did... It's hard to describe," Steve added, speaking slowly and choosing his words carefully. "It was like seeing double. I was holding Tony, both my arms around his waist and not letting go, and at the same time I was in some kind of grey landscape, reaching out and grabbing Tony's hand, then tearing through some kind of flexible barrier. The moment we did, you were out cold."

Bucky mulled that over, then asked, "Show me?"

The request got Steve moving, and he joined them on the bed, perching on the edge of the mattress near Tony's shoulder on his injured side. Tony offered him a hand, and pulled Steve closer when he took it.

Finding their bond and looking for Steve in it was easier this time. Tony wasn't sure if that was a consequence of the lack of distractions, knowing what to look for, or having freed Bucky of the Cube's influence. Probably all three. Reaching out over the bond immediately got him the same feeling of double vision and the sensation that Steve was holding his hand in a firm grip. It was the kind of grip that you'd use to pick someone up off the ground: a hand wrapped firmly around the forearm just below the elbow. Tony returned the gesture in kind, holding and supporting Steve; he remembered the feeling of hauling Steve up over a cliff edge to safety that he'd gotten the last time they'd done this.

Bucky made a surprised sound, as though he'd felt them reach out to one another, and Tony couldn't discount the possibility that he really had.

That was an intriguing idea. Tony decided he'd have to ask about that later, and grinned at his mated. "Your turn, Buck."

As one, he and Steve reached out over their bond, the way they had scant hours ago, offering their free hands to Bucky in that liminal grey space. A moment later, it felt like something snapped into place between them. Something that Tony hadn't known was out of joint. Steve groaned in relief, and suddenly Bucky had grabbed onto both of them over the bond, physically going boneless and melting into Tony's arms. 

The emotional connection that always connected them with a low level hum anytime they touched sprang wide open, and the three of them were standing in the eye of the storm. Somehow, the three of them, hands joined, were a stable island of calm amid the chaos around them. There were lingering traces of blue sheen lingering around Bucky, but the longer they stayed connected like this, the faster those were fading, disappearing.

Tony couldn't help the relief he felt at the 'sight', letting the feeling wash over their bond, and he knew Steve hadn't missed anything from the way his physical grip on Tony tightened. In the physical world, Bucky shook his head as though to clear it then let his 'grip' on the bond fade. Steve did the same, leaning back to sit up straight rather than leaning over them.

To Tony's surprise, the connection only dimmed. It didn't break, as it had before. Until now, he'd only been able to read Bucky and Steve if he was touching them, with the exception of extremely strong emotions. Now, Steve was staring down at his hands as though baffled, and they weren't on Tony's skin anymore, but Tony could still feel him clearly.

"Was that supposed to happen?" Steve asked after a stunned moment, his uncertainty so obvious it might as well have been shouted.

"I genuinely have no idea," Tony said, knowing he sounded as distant and dazed as his mated. The sudden increase in intensity of their connection would require some adjustment.

"Who cares," Bucky grumbled, and tucked himself close to Tony. He squirmed until his head was tucked under Tony's chin and wrapped his arms around Tony's waist, every line of him broadcasting his determination to stay right where he was come hell or high water.

"Well, I do, but we can figure that out later, I guess," Steve replied. He exchanged a look with Tony, then shrugged and stripped off his shirt. He joined them, his arms going around them both, and made sure he had his hands on skin. "We have other priorities right now. First being figuring out how to deal with Zemo and Strucker."

"No," Tony disagreed. "First is recovering from that brawl and our other missions. Second is making sure our bond is stable. _Third_ is Zemo and Strucker. We're actually in a reasonably tenable position right now. We have Bucky back with us, and we need to adjust our plans for the intel he's brought us. We need to pass it on to our Joint Command, and see what else we can learn."

Steve grumbled something under his breath about stubborn idiots that Tony pointedly ignored, but he didn't protest further.

Bucky looked back and forth between them. "You two can argue logistics later," he put in. "First tell me what's for dinner. I don't remember the last time I ate a full meal that wasn't before everythin' went off the rails, and I don't like that."

Tony's arms tightened around him. "Are you serious?" he asked incredulously. "How the hell were you even standing, let alone fighting, then?"

"I--" Bucky hesitated. "Steve you ever tell him 'bout the Serum?"

That... Tony tensed. "What Serum?"

Steve winced. "The top secret one that I shouldn't have even told _you_ about, Buck?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, that one," Bucky replied, undaunted.

"What are you talking about?" Tony demanded, not sure he liked where this conversation was going. Bucky's expression was stubborn and determined, but Tony could tell he was also apprehensive. He could feel it through their new and improved bond. It was echoed from Steve, who looked like he would almost have preferred to jump out of the airship sans parachute than answer the question.

Bucky stared Steve down, holding his eyes and waiting. After about half a minute, Steve gave in with a heavy sigh.

Pulling them both in close and radiating his nerves through the bond as well as his body language, Steve started talking. "What Buck's referring to, Tony," he said, "is what made me who I am now. You know Bucky and I grew up together. We've known we were mated since we were about seven years old. At the time, no one expected me to live to be twenty. I was scrawny and got sick with everything under the sun. I had weak lungs and a bad heart. Color blind. I was all but deaf in one ear."

"Obviously none of that is true anymore," Tony commented, stifling and burying his horror at that little recitation, when Steve paused. "The Serum?"

"Yeah. Fixed all of that. The SSR picked me out of about thirty candidates. I think it was probably because I was the only one with a laundry list of health problems." Steve acknowledged.

Bucky snorted. "It also made our bond go haywire and made me think you were dead."

Unwilling to be distracted, Steve let that pass. "I said I was sorry. Now why'd you bring up the Serum?"

"Well," Bucky started, then hesitated, "I think Strucker might have done something similar to me?"

Tony wanted to throw his hands up in defeat. They didn't really need any more complications to an already complicated mess of a situation. "What makes you think that?"

"I can run faster, see better, and hit harder," Bucky said, not meeting his eyes. "And I'm pretty sure I'll have to eat a lot more than before."

Groaning, Tony let his head fall back onto the pillows. "You're lucky I have money," he joked, "or I'd never be able to afford to feed the two of you."

He could feel the startled horror coming from Steve, but Bucky just laughed, more than a little bit of relief in the sound.

"So feed me, then," Bucky demanded.


	36. [Steve POV]

It had taken them a while to get themselves up and moving, even after Bucky's stomach had started growling loudly, as though the mention of food had reminded it that it ought to complain. They'd had to work to convince themselves to let one another go. Then once they'd eventually managed it, they'd lingered over getting their clothes back on, too focused on touching each other and reluctant to stop. 

Eventually, after a few pleasant minutes, Tony had put his foot down, and stepped away from them. "Alright, come on, then. The kitchen is probably still a mess, but I'd wager we can find something edible anyway," he said.

Bucky had reached out for him then checked the motion before he could end up touching Tony again. "Sorry about that," he muttered. "I--"

"No, stop right there," Tony cut him off. "We've been over this. Not your decision to do that. I don't blame you. Nothing to be sorry for."

Bucky looked like he wanted to be stubborn and argue. Steve decided to step in. He took Bucky's hand -- the metal one -- and tugged him toward the door. "I'm with Tony. Now let's get you fed."

"Sounds like a good plan to me," Tony followed, herding Bucky after Steve without hesitating. "I could eat, myself, and you probably should too, Steve."

It was more than a little bit satisfying to realise that he and Tony understood one another better now. They'd become a proper team while they'd fought to get Bucky back, and it showed. When they moved, it felt like they were connected. He was aware of Tony like he was aware of his hands and feet. He subconsciously knew where Tony was and what he was doing. What he wanted. All their little disagreements had up and vanished -- at least for now. Steve didn't doubt that they'd fight over all sorts of minutiae in future discussions.

The three of them made it to the top of the stairs, then were spotted by Dumdum. "Oh good, you're alive," he said, looking up at them from the lower landing with a broad grin. "Welcome back, Sarge."

"Thanks? I think?" Bucky gave Dumdum a half smirk, and Steve felt the spike of amusement that went through his mated.

Dumdum laughed at his nonplussed response. "You looking for Jarvis?"

"Nah," Steve replied, "but we ended up skipping dinner, and need to fix that."

"Psh, that's easy," Dumdum responded easily. "Pepper set some aside for you. We had to scrounge up the ingredients for spaghetti. It's real simple, but it'll fill you up."

Tony pushed carefully past them, his wings tucked tightly against his back, and started down the stairs. "That's good enough for me, given the circumstances. Jarvis get the window dealt with?"

As they followed their mated, Steve felt Bucky wince and glanced over at his longtime friend. It was almost impressive that Bucky's expression never changed. Or, more accurately, it would have been if Steve didn't know just how good Bucky was at maintaining his cool, at least outwardly.

"For now, there's just a sheet pinned over it. Jarvis said he'd have to have someone come by and replace everything right down to the window frame and the casement, which might take a day or two," Dumdum told him with a shrug. "It's not perfect by any means, but it'll hold for now. The window looks out over that small walled garden of yours, so at least the damage isn't visible from the road."

"They awake?" Morita peered out of the living room as Tony got to the foot of the stairs and paused to let Dumdum clap a hand to his shoulder.

"No," Gabe said with a laugh as he joined them, "they're sleepwalking down the stairs. Good to see you on your feet, Sarge."

Bucky winced again, hiding it admirably. "It's a relief to be back," he said simply when he reached the group.

It was obvious that Bucky would need a lot more time to come to terms with what had happened. The pangs of guilt that kept going through him at the slightest reminder of what had happened were unlikely to disappear anytime soon, if Steve was any judge.

"Thought you wanted to eat, Buck," Steve put in as he reached them, verbally prodding his mates into motion.

Tony sighed. "Right. I almost forgot that I'm mated to a pair of bottomless pits," he quipped, pretending to be disappointed.

Bucky rolled his eyes but turned and led the way into the kitchen.

The shattered window glass had been cleaned up, along with the splintered wooden window frame and the remains of the broken table. A dark blue sheet was pinned to the wall, billowing in the slight breeze that was coming in through the gap. The counters had been scrubbed clean and the stove looked like it had taken a hit from Bucky's metal arm but was otherwise intact. There were some scuffs on the floor that meant the wood would need to be sanded down and then varnished and waxed. As promised, a large bowl of spaghetti and a covered pot of tomato sauce stood next to the stove, waiting for them. If it wasn't for the missing table and the broken window, the space might have almost passed for undamaged. 

Tony surveyed the space when he followed Bucky through the door. "Good. It looked worse than it was," he declared, sounding relieved. Giving Bucky a gentle nudge with his elbow, he prodded Bucky into motion again, and Steve caught the impression of a dark swirl of worry. Tony was going to wear himself out mothering Bucky if he kept this up long term, but for now, Steve knew, it was needed. He resolved to keep an eye on both of his soulmates.

Without a word, Bucky walked over to the cupboards over the sink and took down three plates. He handed two to Steve. "Make yourself useful and hold these," he demanded, making Tony raise an eyebrow and getting amused snickers from the Howlies watching them with fond looks on their faces. 

Amused, Steve took the plates and held them out, waiting for Bucky to fill them.

He wasn't left waiting long. His mated didn't hesitate to fill one with a Tony-sized portion of pasta and the other with about three times as much, then layered tomato sauce over them both and turned his attention to filling his own plate. Tony grabbed silverware for them all, and handed Steve a set in exchange for his plate. Bucky took the set meant for him a moment later.

"Bring those through to the living room," Gabe suggested, his tone turning it into something verging on an order.

None of them argued. It would be far more comfortable to eat where they could sit down, even if that did mean potentially dealing with every member of both their teams and a lack of table space. Steve could feel more than a little bit of relief from both his mates, and suspected it was because the Howlies weren't treating Bucky any differently than they had before his captivity.

The rest of Steve's team was lounging on the sofa and settee, but they looked up when the five of them entered the room.

Morita caught Bucky's eye the moment he could, holding up his strapped up wrist, and pointed to his still-healing ankle. "Thanks to you I match, Barnes."

Steve put a hand on Bucky's shoulder when his mated froze, unsure what to say, and raised an eyebrow at Morita. "Injuries aren't the same thing as boutonnieres," he informed Morita solemnly, pushing Bucky carefully toward an open seat, and taking the spot beside him. 

Tony decided to perch on the arm of the loveseat, for the moment. He audibly rolled his eyes but added his support anyway. "If they were, your team would be the best dressed on the field, though."

"You have entirely the wrong idea on how often we get injured," Monty put in, leaning back comfortably in his seat.

Steve saw Bucky's attention catch on the shiner on Monty's cheekbone, and made a move to intercede, but Tony got there first. "Oh, I do, do I? Every mission I've seen you run, at least one of you comes home hurt."

Dernier groaned. "Cela se passe aussi à la maison," he said, and shifted to ease the pressure on his own injuries.

Dumdum laughed at him. "You shouldn't have gotten Sarge mad, then, Frenchie," he pointed out. "He was holding back until you tried to knock him out."

Bucky made a pained sound, hearing that, and everyone went silent. Tony's hand immediately buried itself in Bucky's hair, and he leaned into the touch gratefully. Steve felt him calm somewhat, but Bucky wasn't anywhere close to being on an even keel yet. It took a few seconds for Bucky to speak, but his mated managed to rasp, "Wasn't my idea, ya know."

"Yeah," Gabe replied, "we know. Ignore those knuckleheads. They're just sore that you managed to hold off all of us at once without really working too hard."

That might even be true, Steve had to admit. Deciding it was time for a change of subject, he caught Monty's attention. "What'd we miss while we were upstairs?"

"Besides Jarvis patching us up?" Morita asked with an insouciant shrug. "Nothing much, we called this in and got some major news from Agent Carter. She said her sources sent word that Strucker is planning an all-out assault on Paris with the full might of the Wehrmacht behind him. He's going to move within the week, probably in less than three days, given how much he's increased the defenses around his supply lines. She's sent word to Delestraint and he told her that the French army doesn't have the resources to stand up to him, so they're evacuating the city and planning a collapsing defense since losing their capital isn't much more than a symbolic blow. There would be far better strategic targets, and they aim to protect those instead."[1]

Tony swore, and Steve felt the sharp jolt of surprise, dismay, and fear that went through him. "And what is Carter planning?"

"This puts paid to our plan to go to Emden, I think," Steve replied indirectly. "Agent Carter wouldn't waste our combined talents there when we have a bigger target in front of us."

"Are you serious?" Gabe asked him, sounding stunned. "Are you seriously suggesting we go to Paris? Right into the path of Guderian and his panzer troops? He's been hanging around the old border with Belgium for months, harassing the troops on the Maginot line."[2]

Steve smirked. "I'm not suggesting anything."

"Not yet, you mean," Tony said with a wry smile. "You'll get there."

Morita sighed. "We'd do best to leave that clusterfuck the hell alone, Rogers, and you know that as well as I do. We all need some recovery time, and we're sure as hell not letting you and Barnes go running off to face down a goddamn panzer division without us."

"Hear hear," Monty agreed. "That would just be stupid."

Bucky managed a sound that was almost a chuckle. "Sorry, but have you met Steve?"

Dumdum gave him a look. "You should be eating your spaghetti, Barnes, not wasting your breath telling us shit we already know."

"Then shut up about the important shit," Bucky replied, sounding a lot more like his usual self.

The Howlies collectively laughed at him, then the room went quiet for a few seconds, and Steve nudged Bucky's shoulder.

"Eat your dinner, Buck," he said quietly.

"You first," his mated shot back, sounding like it was the best reply he could come up with. Steve could tell he felt wrung dry by the emotional ups and downs of the last few hours.

Tony freed his hand and moved to sit on the back of the loveseat instead. "You two are ridiculous," he said, his tone light. "I want you to know that. Only you idiots would be arguing about something like that."

Steve pointedly stayed quiet, and dug into his meal instead of replying. Bucky eyed him for a moment, then followed suit. Tony stayed where he was, perched between their shoulders like the bird he resembled, and radiated approval. Steve was privately of the opinion that he should eat, too, but that was an issue he and Bucky could tackle once they'd cleared their own plates.

For a few minutes, no one spoke. It was Monty who eventually broke the silence. "In any event, we would need the approval of our joint Commanding Officers before we could organise a mission. Not even Captain America is entirely proof against a military tribunal, and we've already been technically AWOL once in the last few weeks."

"Unfortunately, you have a point," Tony said on a sigh. "We'd need more intel on the German troop movements and overall strategy to make an effective countermove, for that matter. Just charging in won't help. Not against an entire panzer division and however many battalions are escorting it."

Finishing off his spaghetti, having tasted none of it, Steve set his plate on the coffee table and shrugged. "A point well made," he said, and felt everyone's attention focus on him. "But we can't sit back and do nothing, either."

"Cap, I'm sure we've said this a thousand times. Gathering the intel to be effective isn't the same as 'doing nothing'," Dumdum retorted, shaking his head.

Gabe nodded. "Instead of trying to get us running to Paris, you should be getting us a map and we should be planning out our approach. Where are the Jerries going to put defensive installations? How can we avoid them? Are there other ways into the city?"

They were right, and Steve knew he couldn't argue the point any further for all that he wanted to. It stung that Strucker had gotten the drop on them like this. It really did.

"They're right, Steve," Bucky added quietly, then turned to Morita and asked, "Carter didn't call us in, did she?"

"No," Morita replied on a smirk, pleased to be able to nail the coffin shut. "We're still on call, but Agent Carter has instructed us to, and I quote, 'get some rest and sit on that bloody idiot captain of yours, if you must'."

Tony chuckled, appreciating the sentiment. "Right. I think we can handle that. Meantime, let's keep our network of contacts active. Delestraint is sure to have an ear to the ground."

"Bien sûr," Dernier huffed, sounding almost offended by the suggestion. "Mange ton repas."

That was that, as far as shop talk was concerned. Once they were satisfied Tony was taken care of as well, the Howlies turned their attention to ribbing one another, and trying to make Steve blush.

"Hey, Captain," Dumdum asked with a smirk, "do the three of ya even fit in one bed?"

Steve gaped at him for a moment, caught well and truly flatfooted, feeling the bright flush start to creep up his neck.

Bucky broke out in peals of laughter. "Wouldn't you like to know, Dugan," he retorted, easy in his skin somehow, despite everything that had happened.

Steve kind of suspected that had been Dumdum's goal, but damned if he didn't hate that his fair skin showed his every reaction immediately.

For his part, Dumdum just leaned back and gave Bucky a significant look. "You know, this isn't a secret you can keep, long term. We'll find out the first time the team goes on a mission that requires camping gear."

"And until then, I'm not saying a word," Bucky replied. "Askin' me to kiss an' tell right in front of my mates," he scoffed. "Ain't you got any manners at all, Dumdum?"

Monty chuckled. "I'm fairly certain he was very literally raised in a barn, Sarge."

"Hey, he makes the rest of us look better, leave him alone," Morita chimed in, a broad grin on his face.

Gabe rolled his eyes. "All y'all are ridiculous, and I am embarrassed to know you."

Dernier sniffed. "Et moi?"

"Okay, okay," Gabe accepted that, "you've been much better behaved than the rest of the team."

Jarvis picked that moment to walk into the room. "Dernier," he said sharply, "I thought I told you to stay in bed."

Tony sniggered. "Now you've done it, Dernier. Get out of here before the lecture starts." 

"I lecture when it's needed," Jarvis told him archly and huffed. "How the hell am I supposed to keep you lot patched up if you ignore simple instructions? And you're not off the hook either, Morita," he added. "Stop trying to use that hand. You'll make it worse."

Steve watched in a mixture of amusement and awe as, with a few more well-placed comments, Jarvis got the entire team of Howlies to hustle off to get some rest. It was clear he'd picked up a few things about dealing with stubborn patients over the years he'd dealt with Tony. But then again, that was part of what made him a perfect match for their teams. All of them knew that beneath his gruff exterior, he cared deeply about both teams.

Once the Howlies had cleared the room, Jarvis turned to Tony and checked on the strapped up wing without undoing the sling. "Good," he muttered, "at least you didn't make this any worse."

Steve nodded, "Not to worry, Jarvis. We were careful."

"Hmph. See that it stays that way. Barnes? How are you holding up?" Jarvis inquired, looking Bucky directly in the eye and sounding like he knew exactly what was happening to their third.

He likely did, Steve realised, thinking back to that story Tony had told earlier about MODOK. Tony's entire team had to have felt the repercussions of that little misadventure.

It took him a few seconds to find the right words, but eventually Bucky replied. "Not great, but improving."

Jarvis nodded, satisfied. "You know where to find me if you need to talk to someone with a bit more perspective on this whole mess."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Historically, Paris was occupied in almost the same way it happened in this AU. It took four long years before the Germans were kicked back out of northern France, 
> 
> The [UK Business Insider](http://uk.businessinsider.com/hitler-tours-paris-2015-6?r=US&IR=T) posted a short article about the anniversary of the liberation of Paris a few years ago, Hitler's victory tour, and his conversation with his favourite architect Albert Speer, as did the website [rarehistoricalphotos](https://rarehistoricalphotos.com/hitler-in-paris-1940/). I've also got a [link in German](https://www.welt.de/geschichte/zweiter-weltkrieg/article142984191/Nur-zwei-Stunden-hielt-es-Hitler-im-eroberten-Paris.html) on the same topic. They disagree a little on the specifics, like how long Hitler was in Paris, but since that's not relevant to anything related to the fic, I didn't go digging.
> 
> As usual, [Wikipedia](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paris_in_World_War_II) has some more background information on the city of Paris and how the War affected it, and its people.
> 
> Click here to return to text.
> 
> [2] Guderian. Heinz Guderian was a German Panzer commander and he supported the switch in attack plan from a full scale invasion through the Low Countries (Netherlands and Belgium, primarily) to the Manstein Plan (spearheaded by the armoured divisions at the Ardennes). More information can be found [here (Heinz Guderian)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Heinz_Guderian#Invasion_of_France_and_the_Low_Countries_\(1940\)), [here (invasion through the Low Countries)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gerd_von_Rundstedt#Invasion_of_France_and_the_Low_Countries), and [here (Manstein Plan)](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Manstein_Plan).
> 
> Click here to return to text.


	37. [Bucky POV]

Bucky watched Jarvis leave the room, feeling a strange mix of weariness, confusion, and relief.

He hadn't ruined anything, it seemed. Not irreparably. He still didn't think he deserved to be forgiven as easily as his mates and his team had, but he wasn't going to argue. Not out loud anyway. He'd get shouted down immediately.

And, more importantly, Jarvis thought he was, well, not okay, but in good enough shape to be rational. That was... that wasn't just forgiveness. It was understanding.

Bucky swallowed, and leaned back against Tony, letting his head fall back and his eyes close.

Tony made a fond affectionate sound and put his hand back in Bucky's hair, lending the contact a hefty dose of feeling that was more a sensation over the bond than on his skin or audible in his voice. "You still hungry, sweetheart?" his mated asked him quietly.

"Not especially, but I probably should get seconds," he admitted. "I can't remember, but I don't think they fed me once."

Steve made a dismayed sound and stood, taking Bucky's plate out of his hands and vanishing from the room.

Bucky groaned. Steve was going to be insufferable for the next few days. He just knew it. Tony's hand flexed, and he scratched gently at Bucky's scalp with his short fingernails, soothing. "Let him hover for a day," Tony suggested. "Then we'll sit him down."

"You do know how legendarily stubborn Steve is, right?" Bucky asked in reply. "You've met the man? Talked to him?"

"Well how else am I supposed to work through this?" Steve demanded as he reappeared and shoved the plate back in Bucky's hands, full once more. He let himself fall back into his seat, holding his own plate and started in on the food without hesitation. Bucky took the chance to start cramming the pasta in his mouth, knowing that he would need the calories if he was going to attempt to fight off Steve's attempts to mother him.

Tony smirked. "Well, you could just take him to bed and show him a good time," he offered. "Work out those emotions a bit more constructively."

"Thought we weren't going to, tonight," Bucky shot back. "You change your mind?"

"Now that you're refueled and in better spirits?" Tony leaned down to drop a kiss on Bucky's forehead, making his eyes flutter closed briefly with the desire and strong affection that accompanied the gesture. "Sure. You're not as off-balance anymore, and I, for one, definitely want to get properly reacquainted."

Bucky lifted his head long enough to meet Steve's eyes, then hurried to clear his plate. The look of want and longing on Steve's features was telling. Both of his soulmates were in full agreement on that particular score. They might not agree easily on things that didn't involve him, but Bucky knew his lovers would present a unified front where it came to wrecking him, if he allowed them to.

He... Bucky swallowed hard around his last bite of pasta. He was going to let them, he decided. After the hell he’d been through in the last week, he wanted some comfort, and his mates were offering.

"Not against that," he told Tony quietly, knowing both of them would hear and probably leap at the chance.

"Good." Tony replied, voice just as quiet but intense. "Steve, eat up."

"Working on it." Steve told Tony.

Bucky risked a glance down at Steve's plate. It was nearly empty, and Tony was being his usual impatient self. Biting back his comment, Bucky took Tony's plate and waited for Steve to finish his second helping, then took that plate too. "Go on upstairs," he said, moving to at least put the plates in the sink and rinse them off, "get ready."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him then stood and followed him out of the room, with Steve hard on his heels. "Yeah, not likely. I told you I'm not letting you out of my sight for a while, and I meant it," Tony shot back. "You're lucky I didn't just ask Steve to toss you over his shoulder and carry you back to bed."

"I'm all for that plan," Steve said agreeably.

He would probably agree to anything that got him more direct skin contact with his mates, Bucky thought to himself, as he gave in to the inevitable. "You two are somethin' else," he muttered, shaking his head in mock-disappointment.

The plates got hastily rinsed, scrubbed, and dried, and then Tony was shoving them a bit carelessly into the appropriate cupboard while Steve bent and threw Bucky over his shoulders, a hand firmly planted on Bucky's ass to keep him from falling. The move made Bucky yelp, and struggle, surprised, when the world suddenly flipped upside-down. Scowling, he braced his hands against Steve's ass and squeezed. "Two can play that game, Rogers," he grumbled, and started shamelessly doing his best to rile Steve up as his mated climbed the stairs.

He did almost get them both injured when he leaned in to leave a bite on the skin of Steve's lower back, though. Pulling Steve's shirt out of the way so that he could get at bare skin, he'd set his teeth and bitten down hard enough to leave a mark even Steve's healing factor wouldn't erase immediately. In response, Steve made a strangled sound of pleasure and his knees gave out, sending them sprawling onto the landing.

Tony watched them both, wide-eyed, for a moment, before he started snickering. After a beat, Steve joined in. "Damn it, Buck," he grumbled as he picked himself up, Bucky still draped over his shoulder.

"Fine, I'll wait 'til we're on level ground next time," Bucky answered unrepentantly. 

"You do that," Tony said, stepping past them to open his bedroom door and walk through. "For now, though, my priority is to get you naked. Steve?"

"Get his shirt off," Steve said by way of reply as he set Bucky back on his feet and stopped him from staggering. "I'll deal with the pants."

"What about you two," Bucky protested as Steve started working the button and zipper on his khakis. "Ain't you gonna get naked?"

"In a bit," Steve answered.

Tony, apparently on the same frequency, nodded and took up the thread. "First we're going to make you come at least once. You said Strucker enhanced you. Let's find out just how much."

Bucky shivered, feeling the sensation linger in the pit of his stomach, like a shout caught in a canyon. It felt like it ricocheted back and forth, never quite amplifying but not dying away, either, and it left him shaking.

Steve froze with his hands hooked into the waistband of Bucky's pants and Tony paused, halfway through undoing his shirt's buttons. "Bucky?" Tony asked him, a bit tentative. As though ready to calm him down before he spooked.

He took a shuddering breath and put his hand on Tony's jaw. "I'm alright," he said, hearing the unasked question come through clearly. "It's just a lot."

Steve slowly slid his pants and underwear off over his hips, watching Tony closely. Tony pinned Bucky's hand against his face, keeping a close eye on his reactions. That, more than anything else, made Bucky realise just how badly his mates needed reassuring. More than he did, truth be told, if only because there were two of them and one of him.

"I'm alright," he repeated, "and I'm not goin' anywhere. Not if I have any say in it."

Tony relaxed inch by inch, and as he did, so did Steve. 

Jarvis had been right about that, too, it seemed. Bucky made a decision. "I've changed my mind," he said, keeping his voice calm and firm. "You two are going to get naked and hold me until we fall asleep."

A shudder went through both of them, and Bucky knew he'd made the right decision. He definitely wanted them, wanted to feel them on him and in him, but touch was more important right now.

"But Buck," Steve tried to argue, stubborn as ever, "you wanted--"

"Later," Bucky cut him off. "I want this more, right now."

Tony huffed at him, but he accepted the sudden change of plans without argument. In fact, he felt almost relieved. "Alright, come here then, sweetheart," he offered, working his shirt off all the way, and lying down on top of the blankets.

Bucky wasn't about to accept that, though. He deftly undid the front of Tony's pants and yanked them down over his hips. "Thought I told you to get naked," he grumbled. "I meant it."

"Tough to reach from here," Tony protested half-heartedly. He shivered when Bucky put his left hand on his hip long enough to lift him up and pull the blankets free. 

Steve was still hesitating, so Bucky ignored him. His mated would get over his hesitation eventually, and Bucky wanted someone to hold, so he climbed onto the bed and let himself sprawl on his stomach. The position let him put an arm around Tony's waist and hook a leg around one of Tony's. "Get in here, Steve," he demanded, "and bring the blankets. It's cold."

It took Steve another few seconds to get himself moving, but then, finally, he wrapped himself around Bucky with the shivery feeling of a muscle held tensed far too long. The lingering tension in him, which Bucky hadn't realised was there earlier, started to ease.

Tony made a contented sound. "Okay," he said as he brought his uninjured wing up to cover them all and block out the world, "I was definitely looking forward to the orgasms, but this was a good idea."

Steve made a sound that might have been a chuckle, had he actually voiced it and reached over Bucky to put a hand on Tony's skin, too. "I'm mated to a pair of hedonists," he commented.

Bucky pointedly didn't reply, reaching back to pull Steve closer, instead.

Tony tried to answer, but got interrupted by a yawn.

"Sleep, Tony," Bucky told him, feeling he words smear a little as he closed his eyes. "Sleep."

The tension in Steve seemed to release all at once, hearing that, and he went loose against Bucky's back. The sheer relief that flooded the bond and the tear that hit his skin almost made Bucky want to wake back up, but Steve headed him off at the pass. His mated simply tightened his hold on both of them, took a shuddering breath, then let it out and shut his eyes. "Hard to believe this is real," he said so quietly Bucky barely made out the words, "but I'll take a dream over knowing you might be lost to us, Buck."

And then he was drifting, sleep catching up to him.

Warm, with his soulmates bracketing him, held, wanted, and secure, Bucky slept.

The next morning, Bucky woke with feathers tickling his nose. Steve was still dead to the world, apparently sleeping the sleep of the exhausted, but Tony was awake and watching him with affection in his eyes. Bucky couldn't help the smile that he felt tug at his lips, and he leaned in to kiss Tony leisurely.

"Mmm," Tony hummed when the kiss broke, content, "morning, sweetheart."

Not wanting to disturb Steve, Bucky kept his voice low as he nuzzled at the side of Tony's neck. "What's on the agenda today?"

Tony paused to consider it for a moment. When he answered, his voice was just as quiet. "Getting the window and table replaced, I think. And we might get called to HQ, if Agent Carter has enough intel to justify that."

A comfortable silence fell, and Tony let his hands wander, though he mostly kept to carefully innocent touches rather than any that he knew would rile Bucky up and wake Steve. It was relaxing and Bucky let himself revel in it. He was home, and he had missed this. A lot. Strucker might have only had him for a few days, but that had been more than enough to cut deep, and he could tell Steve and Tony had suffered quite a bit in his absence.

Steve mumbled something indistinct and pulled Bucky closer, cuddling him like a teddy bear, and making Tony smirk.

The next few hours passed in a pleasant haze of domesticity. Eventually, Steve woke, Monty yelled at them to come have breakfast, and Jarvis ventured out to find a glazier. That in and of itself would be a task. Most artisans had been conscripted, and those few that were left would have to be tracked down, first, and their work evaluated second. Tony had watched his old friend leave and complained that they wouldn't see him all day. Pepper had followed him, shortly after, with Gabe and Monty in tow, in search of a table to replace the one that had gotten demolished.

After that, it didn't take long for the rest of the Howlies to make themselves scarce, very obviously leaving the three of them alone in the house with Rhodes and Ms. Danvers. Oh, they'd laughed and joked about finding female company and going out to find a proper drink, now that they were finally in London and on furlough, but Bucky knew better than to believe them. He was pretty sure Steve did, too. The lot of them were making sure Steve and Tony had some time alone with him. Probably on Jarvis' orders, if Bucky was any judge.

Not that he minded. Not at all. But there was no way they could spend the whole day in bed or cuddling on the sofa. Tony was already getting restless, for all that he wanted to spend time with them. The situation had come to a head quickly, with Tony all but jumping out of their arms the moment the front door had shut on the Howlies' departure.

Steve had startled at the sudden movement. "Tony?"

"Sorry, sorry," Tony muttered, "but I have to do something or I'll lose it."

"Let's move this downstairs, then," Bucky suggested, trying the most obvious solution first.

The idea got a nod from Steve and a grateful look from Tony, who considered the idea and simply started walking. "That might work," he tossed over his shoulder, the feathers of his good wing puffing up a little in response to his need to release a bit of his pent up energy.

Steve would probably be calmer, Bucky knew, right up until his own need to move and be active overcame his need to stick to Bucky like glue. When that happened, Bucky knew he'd need to be ready for it.

They ran into Rhodes, who was just exiting the kitchen. "Boss," he greeted them with a pleased expression, "Cap, Sarge. What're you three up to?"

Danvers, standing just behind him, snorted. "Their usual brand of chaos and mischief, I'd expect," she quipped, making Rhodes laugh.

"I was going to fix up my armour," Tony replied calmly. "That's hardly mischief."

"And what of those two soulmates of yours?" She challenged him with a smirk.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her, relieved that she wasn't going to pussyfoot around him either. "I'm hurt, Danvers. No faith in us at all."

Rhodes eyed him warily for a beat, making Steve tense in preparation to step in, then dared to push back a little. "You're nothing of the sort, Barnes."

"If and when that chaos and mischief happens," Tony put in, "you'll be the first to know. Everyone else decided to scram and leave you two to chaperone us."

Rhodes snorted. "As if you needed chaperoning. Your virtue was so much dust in the wind years ago, Stark."

Tony put a hand on Steve's forearm, skin on skin. "Well, what did you think would happen when all those high society ladies threw themselves at me? I couldn't very well break their hearts," he joked, and Steve relaxed.

Seeing what Tony was doing, Rhodes backed off. "Right," he replied, drawing the word out a bit, "I'm sure that's all it was. Nothing at all to do with what happened after they threw themselves at you."

Tony's rogueish grin seemed to light up the room. "Well, that part was fun, too, of course. But I'm a mated man, now, with a reputation to uphold."

Danvers gave him the most skeptical glance Bucky thought he'd ever seen. "I would hope so. With two mates like that, I'd be surprised if you had the stamina to go chasing skirts."

"Bold of you to assume we'd let him," Steve said, breaking his silence.

It was Tony's turn to laugh, and lean in to drop a chaste kiss on Steve's cheek, making him pink a little and smile shyly. "No need to," he said quietly. "I've got everything I could want, already."

"And there's the sap," Rhodes grumbled. "Come on, Carol, let's go somewhere else."

Bucky watched him wrap an arm around his own soulmate and gently steer her out into the sitting room. "The two of you are just as sappy," he called after them, and Rhodes flipped him off without turning away from his mated. The gesture didn't make a dent in his mood, and Bucky added, "When's the wedding?"

Danvers turned the question right back around on him. "I might tell you once you announce your own, Barnes."

And. Huh. Now that was an idea.

Tony and Steve turned slowly to face him, and Bucky smirked at them both. "We'll see," he replied. "We'll see. If that ever happens, you'll be among the first to know."

Chaos and mischief indeed. He'd never have come to the idea if she hadn't prompted it. Or, well, not never, but not for a long time yet.

He sure as hell was considering it, now. It wouldn't be easy to pull off, given that there were three of them, so they'd have to talk it out in detail. 

Tony eyed him suspiciously, "Bucky, what the hell are you planning?"

"Nothing yet," he answered cheerfully. "We can discuss that later. Workshop first."


	38. [Tony POV]

Tony could only watch in disbelief as Bucky turned and opened the door at the top of the workshop stairs, and the feelings he was getting from Steve echoed his own pretty closely. Surely Bucky hadn't taken Carol seriously. Surely. There was no way they could--

"You comin'?" his mated asked them, smirk still tugging at his lips.

"We're sure as hell not letting you hole up down there alone." Steve replied, then pulled away from him carefully, dropping a kiss in Tony’s palm as he went, and followed Bucky, to all appearances oblivious to whatever crazy plan Carol had just sparked.

Tony shook his head to clear it, then trailed after them, not sure what the hell to think. It was difficult enough for a pair of same-gender soulmates to marry, and a situation like theirs was pretty much unheard of. It was out of the question. He dismissed the thought, attractive as it was, in favour of considering more productive things. He still had his armour to overhaul, and that was currently a priority. Once Strucker worked out that not only had Bucky slipped his leash but was also back with his soulmates and his team, he would make another attempt to get at them.

By the time he'd gotten downstairs to join the pair of his soulmates, the two of them had made themselves comfortable at his drafting table.

"At this rate, we'll have to move one of my sofas down here," he commented. "If I ever need my drafting table, I'll have to kick you out of my chair."

Steve shifted to tuck himself in close to Bucky. "But you don't need it right now."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "No, I don't. I might later."

Bucky leaned back against Steve, letting Steve take his weight. Tony turned away from the pair of them. Tempting as they were, they'd end up distracting him entirely from his armour, and he knew better than to allow that. Taking a steadying breath and sizing up his armour, in its stand in the middle of the workshop floor, Tony walked around it, taking it in from all angles.

He wanted to try to tweak the panels of the greaves so that they wouldn't snag on his tail feathers. That had been quite annoying, and he definitely didn't want a repeat. If only so that Carol didn't have to help him get himself untangled again. In an undertone, she'd gleefully commentated the glares she'd gotten from Steve and Bucky for that, as she'd freed him. It hadn't mattered a whit that she was mated to Rhodey, much to her amusement.

He also wanted to tweak the wing covers slightly. They worked reasonably well, but didn't give him quite as much freedom of movement as he needed. The thing was, if he adjusted them to give him more freedom of movement, he'd have to sacrifice a lot of the protection they currently offered, and that meant risking injuries. He hadn't looked into it, but if Strucker had pasted literal bird wings on him, the bones would be hollow, and a lot more prone to breaks and cracks than his human skeleton. Hell, in order to make it possible for him to fly, the Cube might have made all his bones hollow. He'd have to look into that as well, at some point.

Consciously forcing his thoughts about his mates aside, Tony flung himself at the problem. He was successful enough in focusing his attention that he barely noticed the passage of time, too buried in material fatigue calculations, stress concentrations, and the stress/strain diagrams of the lightweight titanium and chrome steel composite he used for his armour.

"Tony," Bucky called out to him.

"Hmm?" Tony didn't look up. He was nearly--

"Tony, it's time for lunch," Bucky tried again.

"Sure, later," he replied absently.

A beat later, he was slung over Bucky's shoulder, his wings and tail flaring instinctively, and they were crossing the room.

"Hey, whoa! What do you think you're doing!" He protested, tucking his wings against his back again and squirming in an attempt to get free.

Bucky simply pinned him against his shoulder -- using the metal arm, how unfair -- as they climbed the stairs. For a brief moment, he considered biting Bucky, but ultimately decided against it. They didn't need to take a tumble down the stairs. They'd come close enough last time that had come up.

At the top of the stairs, Bucky set him on his feet and steered him into the kitchen, where Pepper was happily spreading a tablecloth over their new dinner table.

"Ah, there you are," she said happily. "What do you think?"

Steve looked a trifle baffled. "It's nice," he answered, his tone almost turning the statement into a question. "Fits all the criteria we had."

Tony laughed at his mated. "Pepper, don't tell me you picked out something fancy," he said.

"Well, nothing over the top," she admitted, "but it isn't just any table, either. I found a nice Merriweather second hand, so I thought why not."

The new table was very similar to the old in its dimensions, and with the tablecloth covering it, the changes were even less obvious. Tony reached out and flipped back a corner of the cloth. The legs looked sturdy -- a must given how many they were now that his team and Steve's had more or less merged into one unit -- and the tabletop was thicker wood than the old table had had. The old table, an antique he'd inherited from his mother and never much liked, had been oak, polished to a mirror sheen by years of use and care. The new table was what looked like cherry to Tony's admittedly amateur eye, and probably weighed a ton. He decided he liked it.

"Looks good to me. Solid choice, Pepper. It's much better than the old one," he approved. "Any word from Jarvis about that window?"

"None yet. Oh, and Gabe and Monty went out to find the rest of the Howlies. The lot of them probably won't be back before dinner, I expect," Pepper informed him, looking pleased.

Tony almost wanted to shake his head. "That figures."

Steve chuckled at him. "They cleared out to give us time together as much as to get out and find some alcohol and company," he put in. "They'll be back soon enough."

Bucky stayed quiet, his expression pensive and the bond saying much the same. Tony wasn't sure he trusted that calm. Bucky had been so upset when they'd gotten him back, so this sudden return to equilibrium was more than a little bit suspect, as far as he was concerned. He didn't intend to say anything about it, though.

Better to let Bucky recover more before he poked that sleeping bear.

Stepping over to the cupboards, he pulled out plates and glasses for all of them. "So I was promised lunch, and then hauled out of my workshop. There had better be food on offer."

That got Bucky moving. He moved over to the refrigerator [1] and produced soup and sandwiches that someone had obviously prepared sometime that morning or last night. Pepper took the pot of soup and started it heating, then handed Steve a spoon.

"Stir that as it heats. Just before it boils, turn off the heat," she told him. Then, satisfied that he would follow instructions, she stepped over to Tony, where he was leaning a hip against the table and watching. "And you, Stark," she added, "you are going to hold still and let me check on that wing of yours. Mr. Jarvis' orders."

Giving her a half-smile, Tony submitted. "Let's get this over with, then," he grumbled. "It feels a lot better already."

"Good," she said simply, and stepped around to his injured side and reached out slowly, giving Tony plenty of warning.

She'd obviously heard about what had happened when Steve had surprised him in the infirmary, Tony realised, and he wasn't sure whether he wanted to laugh or roll his eyes. He turned his injured side towards her instead, and grimaced. "Alright, come on, let's get this over with."

Pepper nodded, watching his mates warily for a moment, then started quickly and efficiently checking on the potential problem spots. Hers felt a lot less slimy than Strucker's hands, thank all the gods. About two minutes later, she was done and undoing the sling holding his wing tight to his back. "I'm not sure how you managed to get away with such a light injury, but I'm glad you did," she commented. "Just be careful you don't overuse that wing, and you should be fine."

Steve and Bucky made almost identical relieved sounds, and reached out for him. Tony dodged their hands and gave them a look as he stretched gingerly, testing his range of motion and careful not to hit anything. "Don't you worry about me, Pepper," he replied drily as he refolded his wings. "I've got two mother hens just waiting to wrap me up in cotton wool."

Bucky sighed, but kept quiet. Steve was the one to reply, "We wouldn't, if you didn't keep getting hurt all the time."

Pointedly ignoring the words, Tony applied himself to his sandwich instead. Steve gave him a knowing look, but handed Bucky a second sandwich and went back to stirring the soup. Bucky grumbled something under his breath, and Tony could feel the mild irritation almost buzzing along the bond that connected the three of them. It was overlaid with a mixture of fondness and relief, though, so Tony said nothing about it.

Pepper watched them silently for a minute before she picked up her own sandwich. "Steve," she broke the contemplative quiet, as Steve pulled the soup off the stove to serve it, "do you really think Strucker will try to take Paris?"

Steve hesitated. "Nothing's ever guaranteed," he said a heavy certainty to his words, "but if he doesn't, I have to ask myself what his goal could possibly be. He's been increasing the defenses on his supply lines and manufacturing. He's moved several other divisions up to support the panzer troops along the border with Belgium. He's tried to have Delestraint assassinated. And then there's his well-known loathing of the French Resistance. It all adds up to a push for the French capital, if you ask me. True, it could be a feint, but it'd be a damned expensive one. What else could he be after?"

"Us," Pepper replied simply. "If he goes after Paris, he goes after Paris. That's something the French have been planning contingencies for. It'll hopefully happen without too many casualties. But we all know that if Paris falls, our teams will be spearheading any attempt to take it back. Or to sabotage his assault on the city, as the case might be."

Tony had to admit that was a possibility. "You think it's another trap?"

"We knew going to Benedictin might be a trap," she said. "And it was. We lost Bucky. If you think Strucker isn't livid that we've got him back... well. You've learned nothing about him."

"You think he'd take Paris just to get us?" Bucky asked her, incredulous. "That's insane."

"So is Strucker," Tony told him, and groaned. "Damn it. It's entirely possible that you're right, Pepper. That would be a way to kill two birds with one stone, as far as he's concerned. Either he deals the French a bad blow, or us, or both."

Steve considered that for a few seconds, then winced. "I sure hope you're wrong, but it would fit."

"We need to talk this over with Agent Carter and the rest of our joint COs," Bucky suggested. "They might be able to offer us some insight or options."

"Not today, though," Pepper added firmly. "Today you're resting and recovering. You've still got bruises under your eyes, Bucky, and Steve needs feeding up."

"Well, alright," Tony conceded. "You call them, then, and request a meeting for tomorrow sometime."

"Even if they're available, the day after tomorrow is likely soon enough," Pepper countered. "The rest of Steve's team is still injured, anyway. Not one of you is battle ready."

Bucky made a pained sound. "And that's my fault," he muttered, sounding guilty as hell again, much to Tony's consternation.

"We talked about this, Bucky," he said making his voice firm enough to make Bucky meet his eyes. "That was Strucker in control, not you. Not one of us blames you for that. Except you. And that is not going to fly. Instead of wasting your time being guilty about that, put some thought into how you're going to help us take down that megalomaniac."

"But--"

"He's got a point, Bucky," Pepper spoke up. "You're our best shot. And also our best hope of taking him out from a distance."

Steve looked like he'd just had an idea. "Pepper, that's brilliant."

Bucky eyed Steve like he might a week old fish. "Damn it. What crazy plan are you hatching this time, Steve?"

"I'll tell you later, once I have a better idea of what it is." Steve grinned at him and threw an arm over Bucky's shoulders. "Until then, we're going to rest and recover. Pepper's entirely right about that, unfortunately. We all want Strucker dealt with, preferably yesterday, but the team's in no shape to do that."

Tony shook his head in mock despair. "Give the man an idea and he'll turn it into a continent-wide strategy," he joked. "Where's my soup?"

Pepper handed him a bowl. "Well, I have no idea what that strategy is, but I guess we'll find out soon enough," she answered in kind.

Bucky had a long-suffering expression on his face. "Yeah, and we'll be the ones who have to somehow pull it off, and haul his ass out of the fire."

Tony hoped not. For all their sakes.

The important thing now was getting everyone back into shape. Until that happened, they'd be at a distinct disadvantage. He decided that worrying about things could wait, though. He could let things lie as they were until their meeting with their joint COs. There he'd have to pry Steve's plan out of him, if it hadn't come out by then, and pick Carter's brain and Fury's. Phillips was good at what he did, but he tended to favour defensive strategies, and that wouldn't be the way to get Strucker dealt with.

They finished their meal in silence, and Tony led the way back out of the kitchen once they'd cleared their plates. Bucky and Steve followed him like a pair of frighteningly competent ducklings, and Pepper snickered at them. Tony decided not to give a damn, ignoring her as he made a beeline for his workshop again. He wanted to finish his upgrades and try on the modified armour, and that was something he couldn't do from the kitchen.

"Hey, Tony," Bucky broke into his thoughts as they reentered the large underground space, "you got a picture frame I can empty out and replace the contents of?"

Thrown for a moment by the nonsequitur, Tony hesitated. "I'm not sure? How big does it need to be?"

"Big enough for that sketch of Steve's that he promised me," Bucky replied, getting Steve to squirm.

"I think I can come up with something," he said, a smile tugging at his lips. Diverted, he cast around the workshop for the pile of papers he'd been meaning to clean up for months. He was fairly sure there was some award or other in there that he didn't particularly care about and had come with a fancy frame. It didn't take him long to find, and whip the award out of the relatively heavy chunk of walnut and glass. "Here, use this." 

"But, Tony--" Steve tried to protest, apparently of the opinion that his sketch was inferior to the award.

Tony wasn't having any of that. "I promised Bucky a frame. He has one. You promised him a sketch. Your turn to make good."

"That award should--" Steve tried again, sending a mix of embarrassment and resignation at him. Probably unconsciously.

"I can find it another frame if I decide to hang it," Tony waved that off. "If I hang all the random awards I'm given, I'll run out of wall faster than I care to think about. For some reason people keep handing them to me. I would much rather see your art gracing my walls." He paused and watched Steve go pink. "It's more important to me," he added, watching the blush deepen slightly and a shy smile take hold. Their bond was a flood of surprise and pleasure, and it made Tony smile, too.

Bucky nodded, holding out a hand expectantly. "C'mon, Steve. Where is it?"

Tony could see the moment Steve gave in to the inevitable. He turned and picked up his sketch book off the drafting table, turning pages until he found the one Bucky wanted. "Got a pen knife on you? Mine's upstairs."

"Sure," Bucky replied easily, and handed one over.

Steve took it, turned it over once in his hands, flicked it open, and deftly sliced the page out of the book. Knife and sketch went back to Bucky who flipped the blade closed again and tucked it back in his pocket. Holding the sketch reverently, delicately, he slid it into the frame and fiddled with it until he was satisfied it looked as it should. "Frame don't match the art," he commented, "but that don't matter to me."

Tony stepped up to him and peered over his shoulder at the sketch, feeling himself going perfectly still. It was unmistakably him. Wings and tail spread wide, dramatically silhouetted against the night skies, armoured up and missing his helmet, it was him. Steve had lovingly picked out every last detail of the armour plates and the trails left by his palm and boot jets. It was stunning, and incredibly romantic.

No wonder Bucky had insisted it needed a frame.

Tony had to clear his throat. "If I didn't have to finish and test my upgrades," he said to Steve, hearing the slight rasp the lingered in his voice, "I would pin you to the wall and make you scream."

Steve made a strangled sound.

Bucky laughed at him. "Well, Steve, if you ever want to get him riled up, now you know how."

\------

[1] Wikipedia link [to a bit more info about the history of the fridge](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Refrigerator). It's actually a surprisingly interesting read. Click here to return to text.


	39. [Steve POV]

He still wasn't entirely sure how they'd gotten through the rest of the afternoon without giving in to the impulse and simply indulging one another on the spot. But somehow they had. Steve had spent most of that time trying not to think too hard about Tony's reaction to seeing the sketch. He hadn't realised Tony hadn't seen it before, and had been caught off guard by his mated's reaction. The almost painfully clear mix of lust and restraint had very nearly made him throw caution to the wind and grab for Tony. Hell, the memory of it was still enough to get him hot.

He and Bucky had curled up together and watched Tony work until dinner, whereupon the team had burst back into the house in a cheerful tumult of noise and laughter, and then they'd retreated back to Tony's bedroom. Despite the tension that was still singing between them, though, all they'd done was cuddle until they'd fallen asleep. Steve had to shake his head and smile at the memory. It was good. As good as sex would have been, really. Just knowing that both his soulmates were in bed with him and wanted to be there was still something of a novelty, if he was honest with himself.

Breakfast the next morning had been the usual mix of chaos and well-oiled efficiency, and the time until lunch had passed uneventfully.

Just after one, they'd gotten a call from Director Fury informing them that they had a briefing to attend.

And so here they were, seated around the conference table once more. The Howlies were somewhat the worse for wear and it showed, in the assortment of bruises and bandages they sported. Carter had taken one glance at them and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Well, I see you weren't kidding about the injuries," she said with a sigh. "I suppose we'll have to consider this more of a strategy session than a mission briefing."

"Strategy for what?" Bucky piped up.

Fury glanced at him and snorted. "Ya'll find out sooner if ya keep yer trap shut, Barnes," he replied, pointing at Bucky with his cigar.

"Strucker seems to be waiting for something," Phillips put in, "and we don't know what. He's sniffed out all of our informants and gotten rid of them somehow."

"We don't believe he'll wait much longer, however," Agent Carter picked up the thread, "and we expect him to send his armoured division across the Maginot line towards Paris. Potentially as early as tomorrow morning."

"So what do you want us to do about it?" Dumdum asked. "We're a covert ops team. We do precision strikes. The ten of us can't hold off a division of German armour."

"No," Phillips agreed, "but you might be able to distract them."

Steve considered that. "It's possible. But not with most of my team walking wounded."

Agent Carter gave him a smirk. "Actually, we were thinking about possibly sending you and Sergeant Barnes in with Mr. Stark's team, while yours recovers."

Several of the Commandos tried to object at the same time, their words overlapping. "Oh Lord, no," "I don't think--" "That's a terrible--" 

"Shaddap," Fury told them. "You yahoos ain't in any shape to fight, and we might have to move fast. Until we have solid intel, we can't act, so yer still on furlough for now. But yer on call. If we have a shot at this, we're going to haul ya outta bed and cram ya into that overgrown hot air balloon of Stark's."

Steve felt his jaw set. "And just what kind of shot are you trying to take, Director? We can be ready to move at a moment's notice if we have to, but I don't like the idea of leaving my team here, and if we do have to move fast we'll need a plan of action."

"Between you and your shield, Barnes' skill with a rifle, and Stark's armour," Agent Carter replied, "we're hoping you can slow or divert the armoured divisions. How, precisely, you do so is, of course, up to you."

Steve felt Tony and Bucky exchange a look next to him. "I highly doubt the three of us could pull that off," he said slowly. "Not without support."

"Perhaps we should table the discussion until we have more intel?" Monty suggested quietly. "That might be more productive. And in the meantime we can try to come up with some way that the three of them might have a chance at being effective."

Phillips considered that for a moment, then nodded. "Who knows," he said, "with some luck the Jerries might give us a better opening if we wait them out a little."

"We can only hope so, Colonel," Agent Carter agreed. "With the Howling Commandos out of commission, we're down our best strike team, and the others are occupied with other missions outside our chain of command. The way Strucker manipulated Barnes into attacking was quite an effective means of taking us out of play for a while."

Tony cleared his throat. "Perhaps so. But I'd say the more immediate question is how he's finding our informants. I have a theory, but I can't substantiate it from here."

Fury raised an eyebrow at him, but gave him the information he was requesting. "We got no idea how, Stark. They've been disappearing between check ins. One morning things are normal, the next, they've vanished into thin air. What's yer theory?"

"Well," Tony said slowly, "that still doesn't confirm anything. Damn. Alright, here's my theory: Strucker's using the Cosmic Cube to find them and make them disappear. That thing is an artifact the likes of which have only rarely been described. No one really knows what it is capable of, but we've witnessed it being used for mind control and," he gestured to his wings and Bucky's arm, "non-consensual bodily modifications. I would not put it past him to have found a way to use it to sniff out dissenters or double agents."

Fury swore colorfully. "Well, if that's the case, we got no choice but to act as fast as we possibly can."

"Half our intelligence network has already evaporated," Colonel Phillips added, solemn. "We can't afford to lose much more, if we want to have any chance of staying in this war."

The Commandos exchanged looks.

"Well, shit," Bucky muttered, half under his breath.

Fury snorted. "Exactly, Barnes. Captain, you and your team are dismissed to quarters, and I hope to God that one of our remainin' operatives makes contact with usable intel."

Phillips muttered something Steve didn't catch, then raised his voice. "You're dismissed. Get out of here and recover so we can deploy you again."

The comment got him some dark looks, but the team knew how gruff Phillips could be, meanwhile. They were used to him. Tony, on the other hand, bristled a bit, and Steve saw Gabe put a hand on his forearm. To Steve's surprise, that worked. Tony bit down on what he'd been about to say, and let the Howlies scoop him up and carry him along as they'd left the room.

"I swear," Tony muttered as they made their way back out of the building, "that man grates on my last nerve sometimes."

Gabe chuckled at him. "He does that to everybody. Except maybe Agent Carter. Come on, let's go home, and we can talk about this a bit more."

Steve had to smile. "Home, huh?" he teased Gabe a little. "Thought 'home' was back Stateside?"

"En famille, on est chez lui-même." Dernier disagreed, his voice quiet, and his wording telling.

It caught Steve off guard, and he nearly stumbled over his own feet. Bucky caught him by the waist and steadied him until he found his footing again.

Tony was stunned, and all but gaping at Dernier. "You-- But--"

"Later, Mr. Stark," Morita suggested. "Let's get back home first."

And he had a point, Steve knew. They were still, for all intents and purposes, in public. "Jim's right, come on," he put in, lending his support to the idea.

Thankfully, this time their trip back from HQ to Tony's townhouse was uneventful. They did have to borrow a vehicle since Tony's car was still out of commission, but that didn't draw much attention. He and his team were known to come and go frequently, so no one in the motor pool batted an eye over their request. And, actually, Steve realised, he had no idea what had happened to Tony's car. Presumably Jarvis had had someone set it back on its wheels and take it away for repair.

He pushed the thought aside as they climbed into the back of the small troop transport that Monty had secured for them. Gabe and Morita claimed the two front seats, leaving the bench seats in the back for the rest of them. Tony eyed the benches then pointedly turned his nose up at them, choosing to sprawl over Steve's lap and Bucky's instead. The move got him some amused sniggers from the Howlies, but no one objected. Once they were all settled, Monty banged twice on the back of the cab, and the transport smoothly started moving.

"What," Tony protested, mild voiced, "I can't sit on a bench seat unless I'm lying down, after what Strucker gifted me with." 

"Come to think of it," Bucky asked as they passed HQ's front gates, "you never did tell us why they made you half bird."

"That would be because I don't _know_ why. You were there when he made that menagerie comment, but that can't be his motivation. Or not his only motivation, at any rate. He would enjoy humiliating his enemies like that, but he had to have some other goal in mind."

Dumdum snorted. "Maybe you'll get a chance to ask him yourself soon."

"Now there's a thought," Monty mused. "I'd like to see that."

Before they could continue spinning out that little fantasy, the transport slowed to a stop, and Steve realised they'd arrived. "Alright, boys," he said, "clear out."

The order got them moving, laughing about how Steve would rather cuddle with his soulmates in a transport than in a bed. Steve caught Bucky's eyes and got a shrug in return. "They're just teasin'," his mated said easily.

Tony stretched, full body, pressing one wing and one leg against his mates, and smirked. "Besides," he added, letting his voice dip low and seductive, "I'm sure I could convince you to stay right here with me, if I wanted."

Bucky leaned down to kiss him, a chaste and fondly affectionate touch of lips to cheekbone. "You could, sweetheart," he agreed, "but we'd all be more comfortable in your bed."

It didn't take more than that to get Tony moving, thankfully. He slid carefully off their laps and onto his knees, then pushed himself up into a crouch and jumped gracefully down from to the ground. Bucky followed close on his heels, leaving Steve to shake his head at his lovers and close up the transport. They could deal with getting it back to HQ later.

When he got inside the door and closed it behind him, it was immediately clear that everyone had gathered in the kitchen. Steve joined them, curious to find out what was going on. Tony was leaning over the counter to inspect the newly replaced window and the others were poking fun at him even as Bucky defended him. Tony was ignoring all of them entirely, making Jarvis explain to him how the glazier had fixed the thing. Steve rather liked that Tony was as versatile as he was and as interested in anything and everything around him. It was Rhodes who shut them up, though, jumping in before Steve could. Rhodes had cleared his throat and mildly -- but very pointedly -- asked them why Tony's interest that sort of practical knowledge required ribbing.

That had shut everyone up quick, and gotten Bucky to give Rhodes a pleased look. The Howlies had dispersed a few minutes later, leaving Steve and Bucky in the company of Rhodes, Jarvis, and Tony.

It had been something of a relief to Steve that the rest of the afternoon and evening had been uneventful. The following three days were much the same. Gradually the Howlies had shed their bandages and splints, to Bucky's visible relief and Jarvis' satisfaction.

On the fourth morning, news reached them of a German offensive that had rolled right over the Maginot line, pushing for Paris, as everyone had suspected. Tony had called Agent Carter and Steve had mentally braced himself to move. They still weren't fully recovered and both teams knew it, but if the order came down, they were prepared to deploy anyway.

"Morning, Agent Carter," he greeted as Steve stepped up close behind him to eavesdrop. "I trust you've heard the news?"

"If you're referring to the German advance into the French countryside, then, yes, rest assured that I have, Mr. Stark," she replied drily. "If you're calling to ask what our stance is, I can tell you that you will be staying put for the time being. You were entirely correct in your assessment that ten men will not have the resources to hold off an entire division of armour and their support troops."

Steve hated to admit it, but that was a tactically smart decision.

"What do you foresee our next move being, then?" Tony asked her.

"We'd do best to see what happens over the next couple of weeks," Agent Carter replied slowly, "then perhaps send you all to Paris to support the Resistance."

That would never work. They wouldn't be effective that way. His purpose was to draw the enemy's attention and keep it, while the Resistance had to work in the shadows. Steve shook his head without really thinking about it, and took a breath to answer her. Before he could open his mouth, Tony laid a finger across his lips and smirked at him.

"That might work, in the short term," Tony said as he took his finger back. "Long term?"

"We need to eliminate Strucker and as much of his command structure as we can. Preferably in one deployment," Agent Carter retorted, sounding grim. "The more chaos we can cause in their ranks, the better. If we can get that Cosmic Cube out of German hands in the process, it’ll be well worth the effort."

"I think we can arrange something," Tony shot back. "In this, the SSR's goals and mine align perfectly. Keep us posted on any solid intel you can lay your hands on regarding Strucker's whereabouts."

"Naturally. We'll be in touch."

Steve was silent for a couple of seconds after Tony had replaced the receiver in its cradle. "What are you plotting?"

The question got another smirk out of Tony. "I'm not planning anything," he answered, "but I know you, and I know you walked out of our last briefing with an idea."

"I--" Steve hesitated for a beat. "I might have. But it's an idea, and not a plan."

"We'll work on that," Tony waved off that objection. "Spill."

Resigning himself to telling Tony, and possibly the rest of their respective teams, Steve sighed. He stepped in again, closing the minimal distance Tony had put between them so he could pull Tony into his arms and hook his chin over Tony's shoulder comfortably. "Remember what Agent Carter said about taking a shot at Strucker?"

"You mean, sending you, me, and Bucky in?" Tony asked, sounding and feeling surprised and vaguely disapproving. "I thought we'd vetoed that plan."

Before he answered, Steve let his hands wander up from Tony's waist to the base of his wings so he could bury his fingers in the soft feathers and tease at the skin below with his fingernails. The sensation made Tony melt against him, as always, and Steve reveled in that. The pleasure and affection that came clear across the bond were just as wonderful. "We did. But Bucky's a good shot. If we could get him to a perch with a clear line of sight, he could deal with Strucker from a distance," Steve said quietly. "As long as he has support from your team and mine, it ought to be feasible."

Tony considered that. "That would mean we'd have to know exactly when and where we could find our enemy," he pointed out.

"I guess we'll have to wait this out and see what our intelligence network can turn up," Steve decided. "And find out if Bucky's up for that kind of mission."

After what had happened the last time they'd gone up against Strucker, Steve wouldn't blame his mated in the least for turning down an assignment that meant he had to get anywhere close to the man. They had no idea what kind of range the Cosmic Cube had. Whether Strucker could use it to take Bucky captive again even from half a mile away. Steve suspected the answer to that question was 'yes', given that Bucky had still been under Strucker's control when he'd come crashing through the kitchen window several days ago. By all accounts Strucker had still been in Berlin at the time.

"You two jokers gonna come back into the living room and tell us what you talked about?" Morita interrupted them, making Tony pull away from him.

Reluctantly pulling his hands out of Tony's feathers and letting him go, Steve stepped back. Tony shook out his wings, letting the feathers rouse then settle, and made for the living room. Steve trailed after him, forcing himself not to reach for Tony's hand.

That thought sent him off on a tangent. It was strange, really. Before Bucky had been taken, he'd been the one to be very physically demonstrative with Tony. Afterward, Steve had. And now that they had Bucky back, they were working out where the balance was. Neither he nor Bucky wanted to be too clingy. They both knew that kind of behaviour would only serve to annoy their two respective mates. But the need, the desire, to touch and taste and smell was strong.

The rest of their teams were spread comfortably out on the various seats in the room, and looking up at them expectantly.

"Well," Dumdum demanded, "what's the news?"


	40. [Bucky POV]

Steve caught Dugan's eyes before he replied. "Agent Carter thinks we should sit back and play things more cautiously for a while. She suggested sending us to Paris to support the Resistance, and then to take out Strucker and as much of his command structure as we can."

The Howlies and Tony's team visibly chewed on that for a few seconds. Jarvis was the first to speak. "And when would we be crossing the Channel?"

"No idea," Tony replied with a shrug. "None of this is confirmed. Agent Carter never outright said it, but it sounds like she wants us to annoy and harass the Germans as much as possible before sending us after Strucker."

"And when she does," Monty asked, "what's the plan? She wouldn't just send us in, guns blazing. That's not her style."

Bucky snorted. "No, but it is Steve's."

Dernier laughed. "Jusqu'ici il a réussi au Capitain."

"That's not entirely reassuring," Rhodes muttered. He looked up at Tony and added, "You two have a plan brewing. Tell us what it is."

"It's not what I'd call a plan, yet," Steve hedged. "More like an idea. I don't think going to Paris would be a good idea, but if we get orders, we'll have to go. As to Strucker, if Bucky's up to it, I thought we'd try to lay our own trap. Stick him up in a good perch with his rifle and let him get a bit of revenge."

That... Bucky considered it for a beat. That appealed. "That's not the worst plan I've ever heard," he said slowly, "but we don't have the intel to pull it off, and Carter said her network has been disappearing."

"Maybe our pal General Delestraint knows something we don't," Morita put in. "When we were looking for Sarge, he was better informed than Carter, Phillips, and Fury."

Gabe nodded. "Give him a call, Jacques," he suggested. "He'll want to get some of his own back, too."

Rolling his shoulders, Tony nodded. "Good idea. There's a very minimal chance we'll have anything actionable tonight. So while we wait for the right moment to strike, we can finish recuperating."

Jarvis made an approving face. "Sensible," he said, as though everything were settled. "Now, get out of here. I don't want to see any of you aggravating your injuries for the next few hours."

Bucky had to admit, it kinda was settled. There wasn't really anything else they could do at the moment, and they were in agreement over the minimal excuse for a plan they had. No one else argued with Jarvis, either. Not even Steve.

Tony broke him out of his thoughts before he could get any farther than that. He stepped over to stand in front of Bucky, filling his field of view and holding out a hand. "C'mon," he said quietly. "We're going down to the 'shop. Unlike last time, we have the option, so I'm going to outfit you two idiots and as many of your team as I can before we have to go save the world."

Morita sniggered. "Try not to get too distracted, then, Stark," he joked.

Tony looked like he wasn't entirely sure what to say, for once, so Bucky stood and turned him toward the door. "Ignore him, sweetheart," he told his mated, "I'll make sure you stay focused. Gonna join us, Steve?"

As he got Tony moving, Steve fell in with them wordlessly. Just after they cleared the doorway, Bucky hear Jarvis sigh. "You have no idea when to keep your mouth shut, do you, Morita?" their field medic asked. Bucky didn't hear the response, and he didn't really care, either. He didn't mind sex jokes, but the Howlies had been harping on this one for the whole time they'd known he was mated to Tony, and it was starting to lose its amusement value.

Tony cleared his throat, "You know that they'll stop if you tell them to, right?" he said quietly, opening the door to the workshop stairs, and it was obvious he'd felt Bucky's irritation.

"Yeah, I know," Bucky replied and shoved the whole thing out of his mind as best he could, changing the subject. "What technological wonders are you planning to cram us into?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, Tony," he agreed, "what did you mean by outfitting us?"

"Well," Tony took a breath, "that depends on you to an extent. I've seen you fight a couple of times now, so I have a better idea of what would work and what wouldn't, but you're the experts. What I was thinking to try was some strategic reinforcement of your field kit that would help absorb or deflect the shots from those HYDRA weapons we've been disabling."

Bucky grinned wide. "I like the idea of that. How do you intend to do it?"

Tony grinned back, looking like he couldn't help it. "I could try to put some armour plates under your uniforms, made of the same materials I used for my armour. It deflects rather than absorbing the energy from those HYDRA ray guns, so you'd have to be careful that the ricochets don't hit anyone else, but it would keep you from getting vaporised unless they manage to hit you full in the face. We've seen that torso and head shots kill, but if they hit extremities, they're less effective."

"And do you know of anything that would absorb the hit rather than deflect it?" Steve asked, sounding more thoughtful than anything.

"No," Tony said, his grin fading again. "Only the vibranium alloy in your shield has proven itself against those weapons, as far as its absorption characteristics are concerned, and that's a material I can't easily make or get a hold of. Much less on short notice. The only source is Wakanda, and they don't export it. In fact, if the rumours are true, that hunk you're carrying around was originally stolen by the Germans before it got to the SSR."

Bucky saw the briefest calculating gleam in Tony's eyes.

Steve obviously spotted it, too. He gave Tony a stern look, and replied, "No, you're not turning my shield into armour. I need that to fight with."

The look he got in response was almost comically horrified. "What the-- Where did you get _that_ idea? Jesus, Steve! Not only is vibranium alloy incredibly difficult to work with in the first place -- you've gotta get it right the first time, because once it's been cast or machined you can't rework it -- it's almost more expensive than even I could afford to get that much of it, assuming that the Wakandans deign to talk to me in the first place."

"Oh." Steve gave him a sheepish look. "And the alloy you use for your suit is less expensive?"

Tony relaxed incrementally. "You're comparing the price of coal to the price of gold, Steve. I use a titanium and chrome steel alloy, and for all intents and purposes I own at least one factory that produces the stuff. They send me ten plates and a roll every four weeks, or on request, and sell the rest to the Allied Military Forces for profit. Makes them money, makes me money, and both I and the other buyers get high quality product."

Bucky eyed his mated. "And you think plain chrome steel will stop those HYDRA weapons?"

"Plain chrome steel wouldn't," Tony told him. "But once you mix in some titanium it changes the surface electron properties. That's what lets my armour deflect those ray gun shots."

The technobabble meant nothing to him, but Bucky knew better than to doubt Tony. He'd personally seen the armour hold up to the ray guns, so he knew Tony wasn't just bluffing or talking about theories. "Alright," he conceded the point. "But we won't be able to carry around kilos of steel alloy under our clothes. Not if we have to carry the rest of our gear, too."

Tony's eyes went unfocused in thought for a second, then he nodded reluctantly. "I have no idea if the thinner alloy will still deflect the shots, but you make a good point."

Turning to his drafting table without another word, Tony tuned them out and started sketching. Steve watched him, curious, and still a bit doubtful. Bucky stepped up next to his oldest friend and first mated, leaning against Steve's side with the length of his body, to join him in spectating. He loved watching Tony work, and right now Tony was ignoring them entirely, fully focused on what he was doing. Bucky kind of doubted that Tony would react if the air raid sirens went off outside. Not that he'd have to, since the workshop was as protected a space as you could wish for in an air raid, but that was beside the point.

Under his hands, diagrams of layered jackets with reinforced fabric took shape, alongside matching pants. The first sets were very obviously for him and for Steve. Bucky could see that by the dimensions and the hints of stripes and buckles. Tony went through five different designs before he picked one to work on in more detail. The one he went with would incorporate two -- or maybe three, Bucky wasn't sure -- layers of thinner titanium steel alloy, that would be cut into plates and sewn into their uniforms.

Bucky had no idea how much time had passed before Tony was finally satisfied, standing and whipping his design off the table to take with him and pin to the corkboard above his workbench. That done, he turned to them, and demanded, "Don't just stand there, bring me your kit so I can upgrade it."

The words jolted Steve out of his near reverie. "Stay here, Buck, I'll get it."

Bucky wasn't entirely sure he liked that Steve was leaving the workshop at all, but he preferred it over leaving Tony alone down here. That was probably also what Steve was thinking. As their third left, he turned to Tony and gestured to the plans. "You gonna tell me what you're plannin' on doin' to my gear?"

"I thought you liked surprises," Tony teased him a little.

"Sure, but not when it comes to protection that might make the difference between a fatal shot and a graze," he said, stepping in close to Tony and wrapping his arms firmly around his soulmate's waist.

Tony shook his head, but Bucky could see that he wasn't offended in the least. "The heavier alloy plates would be too much weight for you to carry around for long, and make the fabric of your jacket and pants wear really quickly," Tony told him after a beat. "So I decided that you'd get a few small plates of the thicker alloy over your torso and two layers of the lighter plate over your arms and legs. The plates are going to be cut to size, then glued to a flexible backing of heavy canvas and sewn into your uniforms. You'll have to try them on for fit, and if you need them we can make some adjustments before you take it out into the field."

"You know if we could toss 'em on a dummy and do a test run?" Bucky asked.

"You hiding one of those ray guns in your pocket?" Tony shot back.

"No, I'm just happy to see you," Bucky quipped, then sighed. "I had one of those ray guns for one of the 'missions' Strucker sent me on, when he needed the target to vanish without leaving a body, but they took it back again after I was done."

Tony's hands, smelling of wood, graphite, and ink, came up to comb through his hair. "I wonder if Agent Carter has one lying around in a safe somewhere."

Steve picked that moment to reenter the workshop. "One of what," he asked, putting his armful of gear on Tony's workbench.

"One'a them HYDRA ray guns," Bucky answered.

Steve thought about that for a moment. "Didn't Ms. Danvers have one in her hands when we got her out of Peenemünde?"

Tony and Bucky stared at one another for a few seconds, then started chuckling. "That's perfect," Tony said with a pleased grin. "Ask her if we can borrow it, sweetheart?"

Bucky dropped a kiss on Tony's forehead and pulled away. "I'll be back in a minute."

He glanced back at Tony as he started up the stairs and had to smile. His mated was already measuring and sketching outlines into the fabric lining of his jacket. Bucky had no doubt that the plates would be cut and ready to put in place in an hour or two, and he wanted to test the metal against a ray gun before Tony started making any changes to his gear that would be tough to take back. Finding Ms. Danvers wasn't difficult. She and Rhodes were sitting side by side at the table in the kitchen talking quietly, and both of them looked up when he came in.

Rhodes raised an eyebrow. "I thought we'd need a crowbar to get either of you away from the Boss for the next week," he commented in lieu of a greeting, "but Rogers walked by a minute ago, and now here you are."

"Here I am," Bucky agreed, and ignored the other half of Rhodes' comment. "Had a question for you, Ms. Danvers."

"How many times do I have to tell you stubborn gentlemen that it's 'Carol'?" she grumbled back at him, before she tossed her blonde hair back over her shoulder. "Well, what's your question?"

Bucky shrugged. "Well, Tony's workin' on modifying our gear to resist those HYDRA ray guns we've faced a few times, but I'd rather not take untested gear into the field if I can help it. Steve said you had one when we got you out of Peenemünde and might still have it. Do you?"

Ms. Danvers -- no, Carol, he corrected himself -- Carol smiled slowly, pleased, and showing lots of teeth. "If it were anyone else asking, the answer would be no," she said.

Bucky grinned back. "I knew I liked you. Can we borrow it?"

"You get back down to that workshop," she answered with a nod. "I'll bring it down in a bit. You still need to spend some time with those soulmates of yours. It's been doing all three of you a world of good, but you're not back to normal yet."

"Alright," he conceded, feeling his smile go a little crooked, "you have a point. Those two barely slept while I was... away. Didn't they."

Rhodes snorted. "They slept, but not well. We could practically hear them hurting."

He'd suspected as much, frankly. Bucky nodded, then paused. "I..." he started, then hesitated, not sure how to phrase what he wanted to say. "When they got me back, you saw it. I was a mess. But all of it -- the pain, the sadness, hell, even a lot of the guilt -- feels like a fog bank that burned off under the sun."

Carol eyed him. "And... what? You feel like self-flagellating?"

"It feels too easy," Bucky admitted quietly. "Like getting away with literal murder scott free."

"If I had to guess," she replied, speaking slowly and sounding like she was choosing her words carefully, "whatever your mates did to your bond might be the key to that. I have no idea what they did or how, but something's changed. All three of you look and act more... solid. Stable."

Rhodes put in, "What Strucker did to you, what he forced you to do, was monstrous. Worse than what happened to the Boss a few years back. None of us blame you for it, and you shouldn't feel guilty about it. You didn't actually succeed in killing anyone but Hitler, either, by all accounts, and to me that sounds like you were doing a better job of resisting him than you think you did. There's no doubt in my mind that you had the ability and opportunity to accomplish all of your missions. And yet... you didn't. And you didn't hurt your teammates worse than a few sprains and bruises, either, when they tried to dogpile you in the kitchen. You, Barnes, are one of the world's stubbornest idiots, and that's what makes you perfect for Mr. Stark."

Bucky snorted. He wasn't sure he agreed with Rhodes' assessment of his actions under Strucker's command, but he couldn't argue with facts. Rhodes had him dead to rights, there. "I ain't perfect," he said instead.

"None of us are," Carol told him gently. "Not even your perfect Mr. Stark."

"And it's better that way," Rhodes added. "A perfect world would be a boring one."

"Now git," Carol demanded, waving a delicate looking hand at him. "We can continue this discussion later, if you want, but you need to get back to your soulmates before they come searching for you."

As if on cue, Steve's voice floated up the workshop stairs and into the kitchen. "Buck? What's the hold up?"

"Be right there, Steve," he answered, then turned back to Carol. "And thanks."

Carol smiled, fond and sweet. "You and your mates got me out of a POW camp, all but handed me my own soulmate on a silver platter, gave me a home when I had none of my own to go back to, and offered me a job when mine was taken from me. This is the least I can do in return."

Feeling slightly lighter, Bucky turned and headed back for the workshop, throwing a wave over his shoulder. "Bring that ray gun on down, when you have a chance?"

"You three better not be making time when I do," she threatened.

Bucky snorted, pausing before he crossed the threshold of the kitchen. "As if we'd scar your poor virgin eyes like that," he shot back, making her laugh, then jogged back down the steps into the workshop. When he entered the large space, he found Steve watching curiously as Tony cut one of the heavy alloy plates with an acetylene torch. Tony was pointing out things Bucky couldn't see, and narrating just loudly enough that Steve could hear him over the roar of the torch. From his position at the door, Bucky couldn't tell what was going on.

It didn't matter though.


	41. [Tony POV]

He'd modified Bucky's pants first, since those would be the easiest article to replace, if that became necessary. The plates he'd installed were cut from the thinner sheets of alloy he'd had available and placed just so, overlapping slightly and only attached to the layer of canvas by their upper edge. It was a bit like recreating scale mail [1], with larger scales than had been used historically and far better materials. Soon after he'd finished assembling it and hung it from one of his ceiling joists, Carol had shown up as though conjured with her stolen ray gun in a modified pistol holster at her hip.

Now she was eyeing his creation critically. "You're sure that bit of sheet metal will stand up to a ray gun, Stark?"

"Reasonably," he replied easily. "But that's why we're testing it. Do me a favor and shoot it?"

"If the shot is going to be deflected," Steve said slowly, "wouldn't it be better to make sure it won't ricochet and hit us?"

Carol snorted, giving Tony a sardonic look. "Sensible of you, Captain."

"Easy enough to resolve," Tony declared. "We need your shield, and a couple of the heavier plates to stand behind. The 'bit of sheet metal' is hanging against a concrete wall, which should disperse the shot, based on my observations in the field."

It took them less than five minutes to set things up to Steve's satisfaction, and then Carol was lining up her shot and firing. A streak of blue tinged light hit the reinforced pants and then the concrete wall of the workshop a few inches to the left of the pants. When his vision cleared, Tony could see that the shot had scorched off the upper layer of sturdy khaki, but left the plating underneath intact. Turning to his lovers with a pleased grin, he caught Bucky's eyes. "Satisfied?"

Bucky gave him a helpless little smile. "It'll do. You got enough of that alloy to outfit all of us?"

Tony paused to do some estimates, using the pair of pants he'd modified as a measure of how much material he was likely to need for the others on the team. "Maybe? It'll be tight."

"Do mine last, then," Steve decided. "I've got my shield, so I could get away with just the pants if you run low on your fancy alloy."

Tony didn't like that. He didn't like it at all. But the logic was sound. "Fine," he acceded grudgingly.

He wanted all of the Howlies protected, but their leaders most of all, for obvious reasons. If Steve caught one of those ray gun blasts now and got himself evaporated, it would be Tony's fault for not insisting that he be fully armoured. Much as he would grieve one of the other Howlies, losing Steve would break him. And Bucky, too. It would be one shot that killed three, probably more than just metaphorically.

Stifling his reaction to that thought, he turned to the task of shifting the plates they'd used as improvised blast shields to lean against the wall of the workshop once more. His mates helped without a word, clearly reading his mood easily and not willing to push more than they had already.

It took them a while to break the silence, after that. They waited until Tony was nearly finished modifying Bucky's jacket, and demanding Bucky try his uniform on. Bucky did, shrugging into the now much heavier gear, testing its range of movement and his flexibility while wearing it. Steve watched him and stepped up to Tony, then pulled him into his arms. His hands slid easily between the feathers of Tony's wings and his shirt so that they could go around his waist and pull Tony tight against a broad muscled chest. The move left him in the perfect position to run his nose along the leading edge of one wing until he could rest his chin on Tony's shoulder. "I know you're worrying," he said quietly, "and you're right to. Strucker is dangerous. But so are we. He's playing with fire, and I intend to burn him to ash."

Tony huffed at him, but before he could answer, Bucky was bracketing him, plastered against his front from his chest to his knees. "Steve's right," he said simply, his voice low and intense as his hands trailed up Tony's arms and over his shoulders to rest on either side of his jaw. "And I don't intend to let anythin' happen to either of you. I already nearly killed you once 'cause o' him. That's more'n enough for me, and I want some revenge."

Tony felt his arms go around Bucky without his conscious decision to do it. "If anything goes wrong and I could have prevented it," he replied in kind, respecting the way Bucky had all but laid himself bare like that and the guts that must have taken, "I will never forgive myself."

Steve tucked his nose into the hair behind Tony's ear. "We know," he said quietly. "But this is our third attempt to take out Strucker. He's caught us out twice, but he's shown his hand to do it. Third time lucky. We'll get him, and this nightmare will finally be over."

They stood like that in silence, supporting one another and taking comfort in their mates' presence, until Tony started slowly peeling himself free. He needed to get back to work. There was no way of knowing when they'd have to move, and, knowing Agent Carter, when they did get their orders, they'd have to move fast.

Reluctantly, Steve and Bucky let him go. Neither of them moved far from him, though, and Tony probably enjoyed knowing that they didn't want to be separated from him a little more than he should have. Once he got back into the rhythm of the work, time passed unnoticed, and what felt like a few minutes later Steve was gently prying his cutting torch out of his hands and chivvying him out of the workshop for dinner.

The next day passed in much the same fashion. Jarvis joined him in making his modifications to the Howlies' gear, and sped up the process enormously. By the end of the day, they had finished all but Steve's uniform. That, Tony had decided, would be the most difficult, and would wait til morning.

In the morning, naturally, the phone rang as they finished their breakfast, and Tony just knew it would be a call to action. Swearing, he hurried down to the workshop, letting Steve take the call, and laid out what he would need to finish Steve's uniform. The pants would be the easier part, so he started there, hurriedly laying out the plates he'd cut and the canvas he'd be gluing them to. As Steve had suggested, he wouldn't be modifying the jacket. That would take more time than they had. As it was, he was racing the clock and trying his damnedest to get this done before the rest of their respective teams was ready to move. His armour and Jarvis' were already aboard the airship, so he had nothing to transport, and intended to take advantage of every second that gave him. As it was, he took a moment to thank all the gods he'd ever met and a few he hadn't that he'd already prepared all the parts for this venture last night and all that was left was the assembly.

That was the critical step, though. It had to be done right the first time. He wouldn't have time to fix mistakes.

A few minutes later, Jarvis joined him without a word, and started helping, picking up the glue and fastening the scales down as carefully as he could manage without sacrificing the speed with which Tony was moving.

"We're moving out in under an hour," his old friend told him after about a minute.

"I know," Tony replied, hearing the tension in his own voice, and feeling it in his shoulders. "If we're quick, this shouldn't take more than 45 minutes. Glue'll have to dry aboard the airship, though."

Jarvis nodded, without looking up. "We'll bring the rest of those scales, just in case." 

In the end, they walked out of the workshop, the newly modified pants held carefully in Jarvis' arms, just as Bucky opened the upper door and called out to them. "Tony? Jarvis?"

"Coming," Tony answered, "everyone good to go?"

"Nearly," Bucky replied. "We were waiting for you. Steve wanted his pants."

Jarvis snorted. "Well, he can't have them yet. The glue needs to set and cure a while longer."

"I can just sew the plates on if you have some sturdy enough thread and a needle," Steve put in. "I had to work out how to repair my suit in the field."

"We can sort that out later," Monty said, "right now, we need to get moving. Our orders are to be on the airfield in under twenty minutes for departure."

"What's the news, anyway?" Tony asked, as he allowed the Howlies to hustle him out of his townhouse and into the transport that someone had sent for them. "Someone want to read me in?"

"Strucker's conquered Paris as of last night, and plans to do a victory tour," Dumdum said with a shrug as the transport started moving. "Agent Carter wants us to sneak into the city and join the welcoming committee."

Steve nodded. "If we can get to the Arc de Triomphe or the Eiffel Tower, we can put Buck in a position where he has a good line of sight and a position Strucker is likely to pass by."

Tony nodded back, considering that. "Strucker always did fancy himself a patron of the arts, in those moments when he wasn't trying to kill me. He monologued extensively about several of the artifacts he stole out of my hands. Of the two, the Arc de Triomphe might be a better bet, though. If I know him at all, he won't be able to resist marching his troops down the Champs Elysées and under that monument, just for the sheer symbolism of it."

Pepper sniffed. "Melodramatic fool."

"Yes," Jarvis agreed, "but now it works to our advantage."

Tony frowned for a moment, then winced. "But if we do that, and take out Strucker, that's one thing. How're we getting back out of the city after we kick up that hornet's nest? What did Agent Carter have to say about that? We'd have to be deep in the heart of the city to pull that off."

Dumdum shrugged. "She thinks we should go to ground inside the city and let the search pass over us, then hit them again and try to take out some more of their officers. Apparently Delestraint's people are willing to put us up for that long in exchange for taking out Strucker."

Bucky let his head thump back against the wall of the transport. "Willing to forget I'm with you, you mean."

A silence fell that lasted until they were jumping down off the transport and onto the concrete lining the airstrip. The airship was fueled and its engines idling. A look through the windows lining the bridge revealed Rhodey and Carol, and Tony relaxed. Good. His airship was in good hands, then.

Under ten minutes later, they were all aboard and Rhodey was sending them skyward, the heading southwesterly. They would travel along the coast to a small cove where they could make landfall quietly and contact some of the Resistance's men. That part had Tony somewhat leery, because it would be all too easy for the Germans to spot the airship or sneak someone into the party that was supposed to meet them, but they had little choice. They needed to make their way to the capital as quickly as possible -- and preferably also unseen, if they could pull it off -- and there was no way they could do that without the help of the locals.

Steve and the Howlies seemed unbothered by that, apparently well used to taking such risks. Tony found himself slowly relaxing, pouring his focus into modifying Steve's jacket as they flew instead, his mates' calm gradually bleeding over to him and letting him clear his mind. Once he had managed to regain his equanimity, Bucky sought him out.

"Tony?" his mated asked for his attention.

"Yes?" he responded gamely enough, more curious than worried, now.

"You alright?" Bucky asked, looked concerned, and that was enough to make Tony shake his head in disbelief.

"I'm finally mostly calm, and you come looking for me because I'm not worrying?" he shot back, trying not to laugh at his mated. "Most people would take that as a good thing."

Bucky snorted at him. "It's the first time since you fell into our laps that you're not rilin' us up with your nerves as we go flyin' into the jaws of death. This is a new experience for all of us."

"Well, it's your fault," Tony retorted, pointing at him with the awl he happened to have in his left hand.

"Lots'a things're our fault," Bucky said, raising a sardonic eyebrow at him, "but I don't think that is."

Tony just shrugged and turned back to his work. Steve's scale mail would be on the outside of his uniform, rather than the inside. Their enemies would expect him to sport some defenses, given how important he was to the Allied Propaganda reels. The rest of them weren't, and wouldn't. So Steve's jacket would be mailed from neck to mid-torso, and his pants would be lined on the inside, like the others'. The fix was a stop-gap measure, honestly, but it was the best he could improvise on short notice. The scales would wear through the upper layer of fabric fairly quickly and might catch on or tear it, but it was worth it for the hidden layer of additional defenses.

The silence that fell was relatively comfortable, but Bucky didn't let it stretch out. "Tony?"

"Hmm?" He didn't bother with words, already focused on his task once more.

"How exactly is it our fault?" Bucky prodded at him for an answer.

Tony gave it to him absently. "Feel you both. Calm and centered."

He could feel Bucky staring at him, feel the surprise and fondness and need for touch, but it didn't distract him. Tony continued stitching, secure in the knowledge that the glue he'd used for the rest of the team and for Steve's pants wouldn't be able to stand up to the abuse Steve heaped on his arms and shoulders, with that shield of his.

After a few minutes, Bucky gave in with an amused sound and stepped up to wrap his arms around Tony's waist, slipping them under Tony's wings as Steve habitually did. The move was so smooth Tony didn't even have to pause in his work, which made him smile. He was still getting used to being this in tune with someone, but he kind of loved it. It was novel and warm, and he'd never known anything like it. Not even with his oldest friends, who knew him inside and out.

It was only once he was nearly finished that Tony spoke again. "How sure are you that our contact will be the real deal?"

"We're not," Bucky admitted. "But if he's not, we'll deal with it. We have before. We Howlies've fought our way out of places like Donar and Benedictin, against much heavier odds. We're meetin' two representatives of Delestraint's. Sure, it might turn into an ambush, but you're busy armouring us up against the worst that might be thrown our way. That's some morale buildin' you're doin'. You'll do your goddamn best to keep us all in one piece, and everyone knows it. Believe me. What you been doin' here? Everyone's noticed it. And they appreciate it."

Tony bit his lip, feeling the wave of gratitude and possessiveness that hit him, threatening to pull him under in its ferocity. "Buck--"

"Strucker wants you," Bucky added, "he's gonna have to pry you out of my cold dead arms."

Well, shit. Tony swallowed hard, putting his hands over Bucky's which were still clasped tightly over his middle. "Don't even think about sacrificing yourself for me. It was bad enough when we knew you were still alive. That would probably-- probably mean the end for all three of us."

"So don't you go runnin' into a firefight," Bucky shot back, taking that declaration in stride and accepting it for what it was.

There was a distant echo of feeling that had to come from Steve, something that Tony thought had been a mix of agreement and determination, before Bucky pointed to the uniform jacket with his chin. "You finished with that, Sweetheart?"

Caught flat-footed by the change of topic, Tony blinked then gave it a critical once over. "It's as good as it's going to get. Ideally, I'd have a way to make sure that the scales don't cause too much wear on the fabric, but it'll have to do."

"Good," Bucky nodded. "Bring that and the pants to Steve, then, and let him suit up. He's been itching to try it on."

That -- Tony had to smile -- that was cute. Getting eagerness and enthusiasm for the things he'd built from people other than Jarvis was still a novelty, and that it was coming from one of his soulmates only made it better. "Okay, okay. Where is Steve, anyway?"

"Decided he'd stay on the bridge while I checked on you. It's still tough to be apart for long periods'a time, but we gotta practice now. Needin' to be close is a dangerous habit to get into, out here on the front lines."

That was a good point. Especially seeing as their plan called for them to drop Bucky on a high perch, alone, and leave him there for several hours while they waited for Strucker to show himself and prepared to swoop in to snatch Bucky out of the line of fire long enough to go to ground. "How's that working out for you?"

The question got him a crooked half-smile. "It sure ain't easy, but we're managin'."

"Good," Tony replied firmly, distantly surprised that he meant it. "This will be tough enough to pull off without having to worry about that in addition to everything else."

"Don't remind me," Bucky muttered, then finally let go of him.

Tony immediately missed him, wanted his mate's strong arms back around him. It had felt nice, and he'd been quietly reveling in it. Soon enough they'd be jumping right back into the chaos of the battlefield, and he wanted to enjoy this quiet moment while he could.

Bucky seemed to agree. He took Tony's hand after Tony had gathered up Steve's uniform and pulled him insistently out of the airship's workshop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Since I'm fairly sure most of you already know what scale mail is, I won't belabour the point. For those who want to know more, here is a [Wikipedia link](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Scale_armour). Click here to return to text.


	42. [Steve POV]

When Bucky reappeared with Tony in tow, their third looking bemused and carrying Steve's newly modified uniform over his arm, Jarvis had taken one look at them and nodded, satisfied by what he saw.

Steve had to agree. They looked... in tune. 

The modified armour looked great, too. Tony had outdone himself, there, the scales he'd added shone and rippled like river water in moonlight. And, for all that they hadn't discussed anything like it, Steve could see that the ones in the center were specifically shaped and angled to deflect any stray blasts away from his face.

Tony let Bucky pull him over to where Steve stood then held out the uniform. "Here, it's done," he said simply. "Try it on if you want."

"We have two hours or so until we make landfall," Rhodes interjected. "Now is not the time for you three to vanish into Tony's bedroom."

Bucky rolled his eyes, but he looked and felt at ease. "Rhodey," he replied, "if you think I could distract either of these two from the mission loomin' over our heads, you're givin' me too much credit."

"If anyone could," Rhodes riposted with a smirk, "it'd be you, Barnes."

"I've got to do the pre-flight checks on my armour," Tony shot down the suggestion calmly, but his amusement rang clear in his voice. "Contrary to popular opinion, I do know how to keep my pants zipped. You're just mad you can't take Carol to bed."

Jarvis chuckled. "Come on then, Tony, we'll check both armours over, and have them ready for landfall."

Tony gently pulled his hand out of Bucky's, paused long enough to run it over Bucky's jaw and through his hair, then disappeared back off the bridge with his old friend. Steve watched him go, staring after his mated until he and Jarvis turned a corner. Bucky did much the same, longing writ large in the set of his shoulders and the way he looked like he wanted to chase after them.

"Oh my god, Barnes, you look like someone kicked your puppy," Rhodes groused. "Put that face away and do something useful like rounding up your team."

Steve snorted. "They're probably hanging out in the cargo bay, checking and rechecking their parachutes while they count down the minutes."

Hell, Carol and Pepper were probably also there with them. The ladies would be in charge of the airship while the teams made the drop into enemy territory. Neither of them had been overly pleased with being asked to do what felt like staying behind again, but Pepper had rallied quickly, pointing out that she'd saved the day almost singlehandedly at Fort Benedictin because she hadn't been on the ground with them. Carol had smiled wickedly and asked her where the airship's guns were and Pepper had happily shown her personally, including a primer on how to aim and fire them.

Remembering the scene, Steve wanted to shake his head. Between them, those two dames could probably take over the world. And Agent Carter would be all in favor, most likely.

Bucky broke him back out of his thoughts. "We should do that, too, Steve. And you need to try on that jumped up flag of a uniform for size."

"Fine, fine. C'mon." He was confident that Tony had learned enough from the process of armouring up the rest of the Howlies to have gotten it right on the first try, but Bucky was right. He tossed an arm over his mate's shoulders and steered him out through the bulkhead door of the bridge.

It didn't take them long to get to Tony's bedroom, where Steve stripped down and quickly changed clothes, moving carefully until he'd learned how the new armour responded to his movements. "It's so smooth," he commented, a sense of awe at Tony's skill underlying the words.

Bucky laughed. "It feels like there's barely anything there, even though it's heavy. The weight's perfectly distributed."

"Exactly," Steve agreed and smiled. He felt invincible in the new armour he'd been gifted, and didn't doubt that the rest of the Howlies felt much the same wearing the gear Tony had made them.

They made their way back down to Tony's workshop together, wearing their new uniforms, and settled in to watch as Tony and Jarvis finished their last checks.

"Everything green?" Bucky asked them.

"It is," Jarvis confirmed. "Anyone tries to crash our party, we'll be ready for them."

"Good," Steve said firmly, with a nod. "Once we're on the ground we'll have to move fast. The longer we linger, the more likely we'll be spotted."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him. "Stating the obvious, Captain?" he teased with a smirk.

Bucky shrugged and answered in Steve's place. "You'd be surprised how often people overlook the obvious," he said. "You going to be able to cope if we have to hike anywhere like we did in Germany?"

"Short distances, sure," Tony agreed. "Anything more than a mile or two, and I'll be better off in the air, even if I am more likely to be spotted. If you'd let me, I'd say Jarvis and I should just meet you in Paris tomorrow."

Jarvis snorted. "Forget it, old friend," he said. "None of you would cope well with that. Not after Barnes was taken from you the way he was. You'd just worry yourselves to the bone."

"Probably," Steve conceded. "We'll work something out. Even if we have to find a vehicle to steal."

"If these Resistance members are as good as you think they will be, we won't have to," Tony said. "They'll know Jarvis and I will be with you, and account for that in their plans."

"If," Bucky emphasised. "If not, we'd better have a backup plan."

Jarvis shrugged. "Buy a truck off one of the farmers in the area," he suggested. "Something with an enclosed compartment big enough for us both to fit in. In fact, the more of us we can fit, the less conspicuous we'll be."

It was a solid, practical plan, and the tactician in Steve approved, even if he disliked the idea of sitting in a dark compartment for several hours, unable to do anything or see what was happening. Staying out of sight as they moved was smart, since Tony was very difficult to disguise or hide and Steve knew there was no way he or Bucky was going to be willing to let him out of their sight for long. Doing so for anything more than a few minutes at a time still made them both anxious and twitchy, though they were working on that.

Steve exchanged a look with Bucky. "That's very probably the best option we've got. We could put Jacques in the front with one of our contacts."

Bucky nodded, looking thoughtful. "As plans go, I like it, but where are we going to find a truck big enough for us all?"

"We can work that out once we're on the ground," Tony decided. "Our contact may already have secured some kind of transport, or have some other plan we don't know about."

Jarvis glanced at his watch. "We still have an hour left before we need to make our drop, and it'll be full dark soon afterwards. Now is the time to check over your gear, Captain."

He was right, Steve knew, but he didn't want to leave.

Tony caught his eyes and their bond seemed to spring to life, without a touch. The understanding that came through made the knots already forming in his shoulders vanish like they'd never been. Bucky responded with a mix of resignation and irritation, but there wasn't so much as a hint of blame there.

"Right," Tony said decisively after a beat, "come on. We're getting you two kitted out, and then we can come back for my armour."

Bucky made a face. "It'll be nice once we can do things on our own again," he grumbled.

"Sure," Tony agreed with him easily and turned Bucky toward the workshop door, "but until then we'll cope. March."

"Check on the rest of those idiots for me," Jarvis called after them as Steve followed his mates out of the workshop.

"Pretty sure they're waiting to check on us," he called back in oblique concession.

Jarvis' amused snort was clearly audible despite the distance. Steve glanced over his shoulder and saw him starting to strap himself into his own armour piece by piece.

It took them under a minute to reach the cargo bay that doubled as a suitable jumping off point for jumps. The rest of the Howlies were already there, strapping their gear on and checking their parachutes. Bucky's shoulders squared automatically and he stepped around them to wade confidently into the chaos. The moment they appeared, they were the center of attention.

"Sarge!" Morita called out to him with a grin, "We were starting to wonder where you three vanished to."

Dumdum snorted and gave Morita a careful shove. "Speak for yourself. You gossip worse than Dernier."

"No, he doesn't," Gabe put in. "But he comes pretty close."

Steve shook his head in mock disappointment, but he couldn't quite stifle his amusement. "Alright, alright, settle down. Any last minute issues?"

"None so far, Captain," Monty replied. "Got your gear ready?"

"Just about," Tony replied for them. "I think the last thing that's missing is his shield. All of you ready for the jump?"

Dernier made a face. "Je préfère ne pas nager ce soir," he muttered mulishly, "mais se faire tirer dessus est encore pire."

Gabe chuckled. "Right. Wet socks are right up there with torture."

"Jarvis might actually agree with you," Tony put in, audibly amused. "The possible consequences of wearing wet socks and boots are nothing to scoff at."

Dumdum shoved a parachute into Bucky's hands, then, and stared at him expectantly until he started shrugging into the harness. Morita offered one to him, next, and Steve followed suit without protest.

"He'd be right," Morita replied to Tony, and then eyed him. "If you're not parachuting with us, you gotta go get that fancy suit of armour of yours, Stark."

The statement got him a sardonic look from Tony. "I wanted to make sure Steve and Bucky were suited up, first. I can be ready and deployed in under ten minutes."

Monty consulted his watch and raised an eyebrow at him. "Well, you've got about fifteen minutes before we make our final approach to the drop zone. Get yourself suited up."

Steve almost didn't want to say anything -- he'd have preferred to keep Tony by his side -- but he knew Monty was right. "We'll be fine here until you're ready, Tony," he said quietly, "go."

Bucky took the opportunity to step up into Tony's space and hold his eyes. "You get yourself hurt or taken, and I will not be held responsible for the consequences."

Scoffing, Tony shot back, "Same goes for you. I'm not losing you like that a second time."

And then, with that declaration hanging in the air behind him like so much emotional cigarette smoke, Tony hurried back to his workshop. Steve watched him go until Monty distracted him by stepping up to him to check his 'chute harness.

"You're focusing a little too much on your mates," Monty told him, "and not enough on the mission."

"All we're doing is sneaking into German-occupied territory and getting behind enemy lines," Morita said with a smirk. "We do that once a week, on average. It's old hat."

"True, but it's not every week that we're out to kill the Führer or his successor," Dumdum pointed out.

Bucky snorted. "Been there, done that."

Dernier chuckled. "Alors, cela devrait être une mission facile pour toi."

"I sure hope so," Gabe muttered. "Otherwise we'll be in for a world of hurt."

Their discussion was interrupted when Jarvis walked in, armoured up and with only his face visible. "Everyone ready for the jump?"

Steve looked around the room, getting nods from his team. "Ready when you are, Mr. Jarvis."

Tony walked back in, his armour catching even the low light that came in through the small window in the cargo bay door. "What are we waiting for, then?"

"Well," Jarvis gave him a sardonic look, "we were waiting for you."

"Waiting on you now," Tony shot back without missing a beat. "We're just coming up on the drop zone."

"Time to get in position, Captain," Morita suggested.

"Right," Steve agreed. "Let's not make our swim longer than it has to be. Line up at the door, boys."

To their credit, none of them hesitated. 

It took less than a minute for them to take the positions beside the sliding door, as yet still closed, and settle in to wait. Steve watched Bucky take his place at the back of the line, then took his place as the last to jump. Tony and Jarvis would follow them out, one of them toting Rhodes along, and lead the way to the shore. Once they'd landed, Jarvis would signal them with a small flashlight carried for just that purpose. It would either stay with their contact or abandoned on the beach, since they wouldn't be needing it later. If they weren't travelling as light as possible, Steve would have simply taken it along. Having a light source was never a bad thing in the field.

Then, pulling Steve out of his thoughts, Morita slid the door open and made the leap out into open air. Almost before he knew it, Bucky was jumping and then it was his turn and Steve felt the excited grin pulling at his lips.

The cool night air rushed past his face as he fell, roaring in his ears. Steve watched, judging the distance carefully, as six chutes opened beneath him one by one. It was a distinct relief that they all did. There was always the risk that one might not, and Steve dreaded seeing it happen every time they made a jump.

Yanking at the ripcord to open his own chute, Steve felt an instant of fear, of worry that it would fail. And then it was opening with a snap that sounded loud in his ears and slowing him with a harsh jerk, leaving adrenaline rushing through him as he swayed gently on his descent.

A roar of bootjets made him glance upward just in time to catch sight of Tony and Jarvis as they soared overhead, leaving behind twin streaks of light as they made the short trip to the beach. A splash below him marked the first touchtown, and Steve refocused his attention. It wouldn't be overly pleasant in the chilly water, but at least their swim would be less than a klick if they hadn't gotten blown off course. It was pretty much impossible to determine their exact position relative to the shore in the dark.

Then the surface of the ocean loomed up beneath his feet with a suddenness that was startling and he was doing his best not to yelp and accidentally swallow seawater. The canopy of his chute drifted down to settle over his head as he resurfaced with a gasp, quickly soaking up enough water to get heavy and difficult to manage. Once they finally reached the shore, they'd be leaving the 'chutes with their contact, but first they had to get there, and that meant stowing the chutes so that they could make the swim.

"Damn it," Steve swore quietly, and started trying to wrestle the chute out of the way. He got as far as getting himself free of the lines and the edge of the silk before Bucky was there, helping him gather up the fabric and cram it back into its pack. With his mate's help, it didn't take long. "Thanks, Buck."

"No problem," Bucky replied, and dropped a kiss on his jaw, sending a short jolt of affection and amusement through him. 

"Come on. Let's get to shore," Steve suggested, and struck out in the direction of the winking light off to his left. He heard Bucky follow, keeping pace with him easily despite the metal arm that had to be weighing him down. Once again, Steve wondered just what affect the arm had had on him, exactly, and that was glossing over the serum that Bucky suspected he'd been given somehow.

Steve shoved those thoughts aside for later. He needed to focus on their mission. And getting back to Tony's side. It had been about ten minutes and he was already feeling the separation anxiety start to rise up in the back of his throat like bile.

They caught up with the rest of the Commandos without much trouble, and the lot of them staggered up the rocky beach head together. Tony and Jarvis watched them, visibly counting heads, and only relaxed once they were certain everyone was on their feet and uninjured.

Jarvis turned away first, looking up the slope of the beach. "So, the town's that way, and no one's in sight yet. Should we start walking?"

"No," a feminine voice answered. "You'd attract too much attention."

Tony turned to face her. "And who might you be, miss?"

She raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm here to smuggle you into Paris, Mr. Stark," she replied, as she caught Bucky's eyes, "on the assumption that your Sergeant is himself again."

Bucky stared her down. "You took that bullet, didn't you," he said, after a long moment, surprising the hell out of all of them.

She smiled. "Luckily you missed everything vital."

Bucky winced, full body, and Tony didn't hesitate to pull him in protectively close. Bucky answered anyway, his voice somewhat muffled by armour and feathers. "Wasn't my idea," he said simply, his voice wavering only a little, but Steve could feel the renewed guilt and self-blame.

"So I heard," she returned. "I wasn't certain I believed it until now. Come. I have a vehicle waiting."

Mystified, Steve didn't move to follow her immediately.

"She took the bullet meant for Delestraint," Bucky told them after a few seconds. "Thought I'd killed her instead."

"You boys coming?" she called over her shoulder, voice just loud enough to carry to them.

Steve felt a shudder run through him at the thought of what Bucky had to be feeling -- and stifling as hard as he could -- right then. "Right, let's move. Dernier, you ride in front with her."


	43. [Bucky POV]

He'd spent the entirety of the three and a half hour drive to Paris that hadn't been a guaranteed part of their plan mulling over their contact's reaction to him. Or, more accurately, her non reaction. He'd shot her, intentionally or not. That wasn't something normal people just brushed off. Even spies tended to hold grudges for that sort of thing. But she just... didn't. He'd tried to ask her about it, but all she'd been willing to say on the matter amounted to "I'm Russian; if I held grudges about that sort of thing, I wouldn't be able to work with anyone."

It was baffling. But on the other hand he was glad enough of her relaxed philosophy not to doubt it too hard. He'd learned long ago not to question good luck or other errors in his favor on the part of the universe.

They'd learned her name was Natalia -- Bucky was sure it was an alias, but he didn't care -- and that she would be taking them along a narrow set of back roads until they got to the outskirts of the capital. There they would be met by their second contact, who'd guide them through the back alleys of the city to an apartment building owned by a Resistance sympathiser where they could rest for a few hours.

As they huddled in the back of Natalia's 'vehicle' -- a livestock trailer that still smelled strongly of cow, of all things -- just after departing the beach, Steve repeated to them, "The plan, as it stands, is to get Bucky in position on top of the Arc de Triomphe at about 0500. We need to move while it's still dark, to minimise the chances that he's spotted before we can take out Strucker, then get ourselves to our own hideyholes."

His mate's tone of voice told Bucky that Steve was repeating it out loud as much for his own sake as theirs. Steve was stressed, worrying over the mission they were about to attempt, and Bucky could feel the tension like it was his own. This little field trip of theirs really was risky, too. Steve was right to worry. They were going up against an enemy that had stopped them dead in their tracks with a thought, the last time they'd gone up against him, then torn Bucky away from them like it was nothing.

Bucky had to force the thoughts aside, lest his mates pick up on them and start trying to mother hen him. This wasn't even remotely the right moment for that kind of response, but they wouldn't be able to stop themselves, in all likelihood.

Morita sounded like he was rolling his eyes as he answered. "Teach your granny how to suck eggs. Stop worrying, Cap, we'll get it done. We've even got a place to catch some winks first."

"The bigger question in my mind," Monty said, sounding thoughtful, "is our own positioning. Sergeant Barnes will be hidden, and if we're to be his support, that means we need to be nearby enough to assist, but hidden until he takes his shot. There aren't any good positions along the Champs Elysées to set up an ambush, and we don't have the numbers for it, either. Not enough to be effective, without getting killed. We might be able to take out a few of Strucker's brass, but then we'd be running for our lives with a hell of a lot of angry Jerries snapping at our heels."

"Well," Tony replied, "I'd say our best option is still the original plan. I can fly. Let me swoop in to grab the Cube before anyone else can, and send Jarvis to pick up Bucky. The rest of you will be positioned in pairs at other points he's likely to visit. We'll regroup at a fixed rendezvous point two hours later or go to ground separately if we can't escape pursuit in time and meet back up in Caen for our extraction in two days."

Bucky couldn't tell in the dark, but he thought Steve must have frowned. His mated felt a mix of protectiveness, irritation, and frustration. Tony felt much the same, to Bucky's vague amusement.

Dumdum spoke up after a few seconds. "We're all decent shots," he said slowly, "None of us are as good as the Sarge or the Cap, obviously, but we can hit a target at 200 yards. I say we pick out an appropriate set of rooftops near the Place de L'Étoile, and shoot at anyone we see wearing medals or riding with Strucker. Signal would be easy to arrange. Fire when you hear Barnes shoot."

Jarvis put up his face plate and made an amused sound. "You know, that might even work, Dugan," he said. "They'd be distracted enough by having all their officers go down not to chase after multiple different targets, and they wouldn't be able to catch either armour."

Bucky considered it. The idea had merit. "Then we wouldn't have to stick around to try to take out the brass, either."

"I'm game," Gabe agreed, "but we have to make sure we have an escape route."

"Let's talk it over with our hosts," Tony suggested. "I'd wager they can help us with that, and possibly the rooftops we need as well."

"They might even have a few crack shots they can lend us," Morita said.

"Alright," Steve agreed.

He sounded reluctant, but he'd agreed. The rest of the trip was made in silence, on their parts. Every so often they would stop and Natalia and Dernier would say a few words to whoever was there, and then they were moving again. Bucky assumed that those stops were either for German checkpoints or check ins with other Resistance members. Possibly both.

It was a distinct relief when, after a far longer trip than Bucky would have preferred, they got to descend from the trailer and stretch their legs. And, in Tony's case, their wings. His mated had stepped down out of the trailer and made a disgusted moue the moment he could get his faceplate up. "My feathers are going to smell like cow manure for hours," he grumbled at Natalia. "There'd better be a shower big enough for me."

She smirked at him. "Not to worry, Mr. Stark," she said quietly.

A new voice interrupted, and Bucky looked over as a stocky blond man appeared out of the farmhouse they'd stopped at. "It's not much," he said in a broad Midwestern American accent, squinting at Tony, "but I think you should be able to make it work. Good to see you made it in one piece, Nat."

The smirk turned into a true smile. "Aw, were you worried about me?"

"Not worried, exactly," he replied easily, and stepped over to her to buss her cheeks in the French fashion. "Come on, let's get this lot settled, so we can catch up."

Steve nodded and followed when their host turned to open his door and hold it for them, moving past him and into the small foyer. "Right, I definitely don't mind getting out of the open."

"Sensible," Natalia commented as the rest of the team shuffled in one by one, then turned to their host and tucked a delicate hand in the crook of his elbow. "You should rest, too. We move before first light."

"We wanted to discuss that with you before we sack out," Morita interjected as he crossed the threshold of the house.

Their host turned to him and raised an eyebrow at him. "And you think I can help you?" he asked mildly.

"Maybe, maybe not," Monty said and shrugged. "Maybe you know someone who can. We try not to discount possibilities."

With a snort, the guy turned and stepped through into his kitchen. "Alright, let's talk," he conceded, "but don't get your hopes up too high."

Natalia joined him, beating the Howlies to it. "You might be surprised by this group, mon cher," she told him. "General Delestraint vouched for them personally, you know."

"That's what worries me," the as yet unnamed man sniped back. "You think I can't recognise a team like the Howling Commandos when it comes calling? And Tony goddamn Stark? This smells like a suicide mission."

Bucky and Gabe snorted, almost in unison, then grinned at each other. Gabe nodded. "I like this guy," he commented. "Good instincts."

"He's wrong about the suicide mission, though," Bucky pointed out.

"Give him a break," Dumdum jumped in. "He's never worked with us before."

Dernier turned to their host, and said, his voice conspiratorially low, "Laissez-moi vous dire une cachotterie: toutes nos missions sont des missions suicides."

"And yet we're all still alive, oddly enough," Monty agreed, giving Dernier a nod.

Their host groaned, pained, but gave in. "I just know this is going to turn out to be such a bad plan," he grumbled, "and I don't even know what it is yet. Fine. If we're doing this, call me Hawkeye. I'll play along, but I have to keep those around me safe."

Natalia smiled, broad and pleased, and dropped a kiss on Hawkeye's cheekbone. "You will see," she told him. "They are much more than the newsreels claim."

For his part, Bucky sat back and watched Hawkeye as the others laid out the variations of the plan that they'd discussed so far. Whoever this guy was, he had to have some kind of hidden talent or Natalia wouldn't be maneuvering him into taking part in their mission. He seemed a practical, competent sort of man. Quiet, but willing to make his opinions known when he felt the need. Even better, he was prepared. The moment Dumdum and Gabe started interrogating him about good rooftops to shoot from in the vicinity of the Arc de Triomphe, he pulled down some detailed maps[1] from a bookshelf mounted to his kitchen wall, and spread them out on the table, offering his insights and voicing his doubts when his team started pointing out specific potential perches.

Eventually, after about a half hour of debate and discussion, they had hammered out most of the details.

That was when Hawkeye started asking the questions that proved he'd been on this kind of mission before.

"So who's taking the obvious position?" he wanted to know, pointing at the Place de L'Étoile itself.

"Me," Bucky broke his silence. "I'm the best shot, and I'm out for a bit of revenge."

Hawkeye turned to him and sized him up. "You've barely said a word tonight. What's your angle?"

Natalia interceded. "Remember the American taken by Commander Strucker?"

The statement got him a questioning glance from Hawkeye, and Bucky felt Steve take a position just behind him and to his right, supporting him wordlessly.

"Yeah," Bucky confirmed with a grimace. "That was me."

"Nat, I thought you said that guy tried to kill the General," Hawkeye asked slowly, "so why is he here?"

And not locked up, rang clear in the air for all that it went unvoiced. Bucky felt Steve draw breath to defend him, and Tony bristling protectively, but luckily Natalia answered first.

"He is here, mon cher, because he is one of the best shots in the world, and because when Strucker took him, he used something to control this one's will. This man," she gestured to Bucky broadly, "was on the team that broke the General out of Peenemünde. This team." Natalia gestured to all of them that time, before she went on. "There is no reason that would make sense that could justify him changing sides to work for Strucker less than a week later, save for the one that we were given. That it was not his choice. That he was coerced."

Bucky swallowed hard, trying not to think too hard about those days.

Tony spoke up, then, having gotten himself under control. "It's not common knowledge," he said quietly, "but Bucky's my soulmate, and if you think I'd sit back and pine to death while Strucker held him captive, you're very much mistaken. If you know anything about me, you know Strucker is one of my archenemies."

Bucky saw Hawkeye nod, just slightly.

Tony did too. "Commander Strucker and I have been trying to best one another for something like a decade now, and he thought he could do it by taking my soulmate and using him against me," he said flatly. "He sent Bucky to London to kill me, and everyone around me that might have witnessed the act."

That statement made all of the Howlies wince, more or less as one, and both Natalia and Hawkeye recoil in horror.

Hawkeye's face all but drained of color. "Holy fuck," he said faintly, gaping. "Yeah, okay, that definitely warrants some revenge. Jesus."

Natalia swallowed hard. "I knew the Commander was a monster, but he sinks to new depths every time I learn something new about him."

Rhodes sniffed at her. "You clearly haven't known Strucker long enough," he commented.

Jarvis put up his faceplate at last and nodded. "There is nothing Strucker won't stoop to."

Hawkeye scrubbed at his face with his hands. "Alright, I'm in. Don't forget; you take two shots, no more, and then you get the hell out of your perches and get to the nearest hideyhole. Try not to be seen. Stay there for as long as you can, preferably at least four hours, until the search has passed over you, and then regroup here," Hawkeye pointed at a crossing off the main road, "at the Cimetiere Montparnasse. Any of you aren't there by noon, we'll assume you got found and captured."

Steve considered that. "Isn't that too nearby?"

Natalia shook her head. "Not if they expect you to flee the city. All you must do is cross the River and keep to the side roads rather than the boulevards."

Jarvis chuckled. "Mr. Stark and I can lead them away, if we need to," he offered. "But for now, since we have a solid plan and everyone's agreed, it's high time we slept."

"Hear hear," Morita mumbled, and stifled a yawn.

Gabe stretched with a groan. "Right, where're we sleepin'?"

"This way," Hawkeye said, and led them through into what was normally a livingroom, and was now strewn with sets of bedding and blankets. Most of it was obviously camping gear, but to a team used to sleeping under the stars on nothing but a bedroll, it was more than enough. Without a word, they dispersed and staked out their preferred spots, most arguments worked out before they could begin.

In under three minutes, the Howlies were starting to snore, to Hawkeye's visible amusement. Their team had carefully made sure the sofa stayed empty, being the only space remotely large enough for the three of them. Bucky appreciated that. Steve looked and felt like he wanted to complain about getting preferential treatment, but needed to be close to Bucky badly enough to keep his mouth shut about it.

Tony, for his part, didn't hesitate to peel himself out of his armour, and turn back to Hawkeye. "So where's that shower I was promised?"

"Oh, right," Hawkeye shook off his slight reverie. "Just down this hallway, second door on the right. Guest towels and things are under the sink. I'm going to go pour myself into bed, too. See you in the morning."

Stopping to lock the front door, Hawkeye glanced back over his living room, shook his head in disbelief, and took himself up the stairs beside the foyer, muttering, "Why do I let myself get talked into these things?"

From the top of the stairs, Natalia answered, "Because you know right from wrong, mon cher. Come to bed."

Tony watched them disappear, then made his way to the bathroom. It was nowhere near as opulent as the one he had at home in London. Bucky knew that before he even set eyes on it. But Tony made a relieved sound when he spotted the reasonably spacious shower. "Come help me get clean, Bucky?" he invited.

"And what about me?" Steve asked a bit plaintively.

"I'd invite you in, too, but I don't think all of us would fit," Tony replied, eyeing the shower as though trying to gauge its dimensions without a ruler.

"Come on," Bucky said, giving Tony a light shove to get him moving, "let's try it. I'll wash your front, and Steve can wash your back, and then we can go get some shut eye without smelling like a barn."

Tony raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't argue. Nor did Steve, who Bucky could tell almost desperately wanted to be close to them and touch them.

Getting Tony properly clean wasn't easy either. In the small confined space of Hawkeye's shower, they all banged their elbows multiple times, dropped the bar of soap twice, much to everyone's consternation, and generally got in one anothers' way constantly. It was wonderful.

They took their time drying one another off, just lingering and enjoying the opportunity to get their hands all over one another. Steve was being especially handsy, but Bucky found he didn't mind.

Then, faced with the option of putting their tac gear back on or just sleeping in the nude, they exchanged glances.

"The team won't say anything if we sleep in our boxers," Steve suggested.

"I don't feel like putting those clothes back on right away," Tony agreed. "Mine smell like my armour and yours are still carrying more than a hint of manure."

Bucky just held out their underwear in answer, gingerly picking up his gear and holding it away from his body. "Let's get under the covers, then. It's not fall yet, but it ain't exactly warm, either."

Morning would come far too soon for comfort, and all three of them knew it. But with it would come their best shot at revenge, and Bucky had no intention of missing.

This would be all or nothing, and he knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] The maps I'm referring to actually exist. Here's one of them: [Link](https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/e3/U.S._Army_Map_Service%2C_Paris_1944_-_Mapster.jpg). Click here to return to text.


	44. [Tony POV]

Morning had come early, by the feel of it. He groaned. It was far too soon to be waking up.

Someone prodded at him again, and Tony forced one eye open to peer blearily up at his tormentor as he tried to wrap himself deeper in Bucky's arms. Hawkeye stood over them, looking at him with an expectant expression.

"Get up, Stark," he demanded, "and make your soulmate put some pants on. We have just enough time to eat before we have to get in position."

Bucky huffed into his hair, and obligingly tightened his arms briefly around his waist before he started reluctantly prodding at Tony, too. "Much as I'd rather stay here," he said, "he's right. We gotta get movin', sweetheart."

"I know," Tony admitted.

Steve appeared in his field of view, and gave them an amused look as he sipped at some coffee. "There's breakfast on the table. Get yourselves dressed and in the kitchen before the others eat it all."

Growling under his breath and hating every inch that he had to put between himself and Bucky, Tony obeyed. "Fine, but don't expect me to be happy about it."

Hawkeye shook his head in mock disapproval. "You're nothing like you're described in your magazines or the other press you do."

Steve chuckled. "Disappointed that he's as human as the rest of us?"

"Mmm, no. Relieved, maybe," Hawkeye returned, and disappeared into the kitchen. Steve lingered in the doorway, not-so-accidentally blocking the view for anyone else and taking an eyeful for himself as Tony grabbed for his clothes with a sigh.

Taking a leaf out of Steve's book, he paused to watch appreciatively as Bucky dressed, then leaned in for a chaste peck of a kiss that left him wishing desperately they'd had time for more before their mission. "If you think things are going wrong, if they change the route, whatever it might be," he told Bucky, "you know how to reach me over the bond now. You'll have the best view out of all of us."

Bucky leaned in to rest their foreheads together with a small smile as he fastened his belt, finished pulling on his gear. "If you think I'm lettin' him anywhere near the rest of you, you're crazy. Don't worry, I'll keep contact. I'll probably need it for this, anyway."

Tony pushed him carefully upright and nodded. "I'm alright with that."

"Me too," Steve added quietly, then reached out to sling an arm across Bucky's shoulders and pull him into the kitchen.

Tony trailed after them, surveying the quiet group that was ranged around the kitchen, tiredly shoving food into their mouths. Picking up a plate to do the same, Tony reviewed what they knew about Strucker's little planned victory lap. Based on the information they had, Strucker and his entourage would be entering through the Porte de Vincennes, on the far eastern side of the city, and following the Boulevard Diderot to the Seine, then traveling along the river until they reached the Jardin des Tuileries. They would likely linger there a while, looking at the gardens and admiring the prize they'd won, before returning to their vehicles to make their way to the Arc de Triomphe. According to the planned itinerary, the vehicles and their honor guard should reach the Tuileries at about 0730, and who knew how long they would gloat.

They were looking at a stakeout that could last up to two hours, and that only if they weren't discovered too soon. And that was also assuming their information was correct. If not... Tony winced. They might have made the trip for nothing.

What felt like two minutes later but was probably at least fifteen, Steve called them to order. "You all remember the plan we discussed last night. We're making our way to our assigned positions in pairs, save Tony and Mr. Jarvis, and we have about an hour to get into position as of ten minutes ago. We'll probably need forty minutes to get to the center of town from here, and that leaves five to ten minutes to climb if needed or otherwise get out of sight. Any last minute questions?"

No one spoke up.

"Alright, let's go then. See you on the other side of this," Steve concluded, very carefully saying neither good luck nor goodbye, but meeting everyone's eyes in turn. "Remember, no heroics. Don't get spotted."

Tony swallowed. This was it. They were really doing this.

A hand landed on his shoulder, and he startled hard.

"Come on, old friend," Jarvis said, not moving his hand from Tony's shoulder. "It's time we got suited up."

One by one, the teamed up pairs left the house. Hawkeye and Natalia. Gabe and Dernier. Dumdum and Rhodey. Monty and Morita. Then Steve and Bucky, who very deliberately waited until the house was empty, taking advantage of the excuse that as the team's leaders they should be the last to leave, so that they could steal kisses from Tony.

He and Jarvis followed his mates onto the small lawn in front of the farmhouse door, then stopped there. Tony watched his mates walk away from the house, vanishing like smoke into the darkness of the pre-dawn morning, with a sensation like an ache building behind his sternum. If anything happened--

A spike of reassurance hit him over the bond, likely from Steve.

Right. Tony shook off those thoughts, those worries, as best he could. They all needed their focus, and Bucky most of all. He couldn't distract them with his fretting. His job and Jarvis' would be to wait until Strucker and his entourage were underway -- according to the information they had -- and then do a brief flyover to check their intel. That would be risky, too, Tony admitted to himself. If Strucker spotted them, there was a good chance he'd simply use the Cube to swat them out of the sky, and that would be a disaster of the highest order. There would be no stopping Bucky and Steve from coming after him and giving the whole thing away.

As it was, their flight path would take them dangerously low over the rooftops of Paris, to minimise the chances that they would be seen and recognised, and then down the Avenue des Champs Elysées.

Standing there like sentinels, their eyes turned skywards, and watching as the skies slowly brightened, Tony and Jarvis waited.

And waited.

The time passed at a crawl, making Tony want to pace restlessly. He could be patient. Hell, he often had to be. But this was the kind of waiting that wore on him the most, and, sure the sky was lightening with the first hints of false dawn--

Another touch on the bond distracted him, feeling so much like words -- _we're in place, we're fine, stop worrying,_ \-- that Tony started to reflexively reply aloud. "Easy for you to say."

Jarvis gave him an odd look. "Who are you talking to?"

The question was what made him realise what had just happened. "Bucky," he replied a little sheepishly. "He's in position, and implied that nothing went wrong, so I assume the teams all are."

"Barnes isn't carrying a radio," Jarvis pointed out, sounding like he was worrying that Tony might have finally snapped and started talking to people who weren't there.

Keeping his amusement mostly to himself, he reached out for Bucky long enough to acknowledge properly, and told Jarvis, "No, he isn't, but after we got him back our bond started letting us share emotions without touch. Apparently it also works over long distances."

Tipping up his faceplate and eyeing him like he was a week old fish, Jarvis grumbled, "Might've been nice to know about that when it happened. I was wondering when that would crop up. Simple mated pairs get it after a few days. I'm pretty sure Jim and Carol have been chatting ever since we left London. He's been distracted and quiet."

Tony opened up his own faceplate long enough to give his old friend a sheepish look. "Slipped my mind entirely. I was more concerned with getting him back on an even keel, and then we were getting ready for this mission."

Another tug at the bond, this time from both his mates, distracted him again, and this time it felt more like _stop worrying about us, we're worried too, worried about you, we love you._

It made Tony swallow back the words that threatened to boil up out of the pit of his stomach, and he did his damnedest to reply with _I love you too, come home to/with me soon._

When he reopened his eyes, not sure when he'd closed them, Jarvis huffed at him. "We need to get going ourselves, soon. The sun will be coming up in under ten minutes, and then it's showtime."

Trying to clear his mind properly, Tony nodded. Until he got used to this whole emotion sharing thing, it would be one hell of a distraction, and that could spell trouble for this mission if they weren't careful. "Ready when you are, old bird," he responded, flipping his faceplate shut again.

His radio went live, about a minute later, and Jarvis' voice was in his ear. "Let's fly."

They took off, shooting up beyond the rooftops before drifting back down. Tony's wings and tail snapped open the moment they were in the air, as he instinctively used them to subtly adjust his trajectory, and then they were soaring over the southern Arrondissements of Paris with a loud roar of bootjets. There was nothing about their armours that was subtle. But if they were careful to stay out of sight they might still be mistaken for low flying fighter jets.

Under two minutes later they were coming up on the Porte de Vincennes, streaking past the area without stopping as they scouted. A mix of relief and dread shot through Tony as he spotted the column of vehicles and men that had to make up Strucker's little parade. He was here, and their trip hadn't been wasted.

 _we knew it, he was bound to show up, we knew it,_ echoed back from his mates as he and Jarvis zipped by the column and started turning towards the city center to join the rest of their team and Steve's.

And then everything went blue and distant.

Tony found himself pulling up into a hover roughly over the Jardin des Tuileries and just watching Strucker's honor guard approach him; it was an oddly hypnotic sight. Like watching a column of ants marching across a hill. His mates were trying to get his attention, asking him what was wrong and Jarvis was yelling at him to hurry up over the radio, but all of that was currently unimportant and distant. As though it was hidden behind a heavy blackout curtain or very good soundproofing.

As the column drew nearer, the blue intensified, and Tony thought dazedly about Steve's eyes. They were almost the same shade. It was like the purest of sapphires, shining and enticing. Something to be treasured and kept safe, even from his mates if need be. And Strucker had it. Was dangling it in front of his nose. All Tony had to do was get it away from him.

The blue started coaxing him out of the sky. Without making a conscious decision to, he found himself gradually drifting lower in the air, like an autumn leaf on a breeze. It was like a sweet song, like watching Rita Hayworth on screen[1]. It was all but irresistible, and Tony didn't really want to resist. He had something to do, something important, but some force he couldn't name was shoving every thought right out of his head that wasn't blue. 

Jarvis started swearing, sending a shudder through Tony alongside a sensation that reminded him of insect bites in the Amazon. There was a hint of a sting, followed by an unrelenting itch that would drive him to madness if he let it. It sent the blue receding slightly, and that was odd. Tony wondered why that would happen. How that was possible.

A whisper of a thought teased at him, and Tony thought of blue-grey eyes and a sexy smirk, of long hair he loved to run his fingers through and a body he wanted to worship for the rest of his days, scars and all. _Tony, we love you, come home to/with us,_ it said, as though he could ever do aught else. He would always follow Steve and Bucky home. They _were_ his home. Just... not right now.

No, right now, he wanted to find the source of the blue. Wanted to make it his own. To glut himself on it and turn himself blue, too. It was all-consuming. The ultimate temptation. Even better than Bucky's sinful lips, or Steve's broad shoulders.

An insistent prodding almost distracted him from his goal. _Tony, you're blocking my shot,_ Bucky insisted, _shift to the side,_ and that couldn't be right. He wasn't blocking anything. Strucker was still far away, like everything else.

 _Tony, move,_ Steve joined in, and Tony gave up.

They _would_ keep nagging him, even in his dreams. Even when he was this close to achieving everything he wanted. He knew that as well as he knew himself. Bucky and Steve were (nearly) as legendarily stubborn as he was. They had to be to survive being mated to him, but right now it was more than a little bit irritating. He wanted that--

 _You don't want that,_ Steve told him, a delicate streak of negation tingeing the bright blue veiling everything, _let us take the shot, Tony._

He never could refuse his mates anything.

Heaving a sigh and still unsure why this shot was so damned important to them, Tony gave in and moved. Being the contrary person he was, he made sure to move up, rather than to the side, but he knew his mates wouldn't care.

The next second, rage washed over him, carried along by the blue that had previously been so enticing, and the world seemed to erupt in gunfire. There was a crack from behind him, and Strucker fell with a neat hole in his forehead, the Cosmic Cube tumbling to the street almost unnoticed. The officer behind him was splattered in gore. More shots came from the buildings all along the avenue, and more officers went down. Not all fatally hit, but all seriously wounded.

The blue veil lifted, from one instant to the next, and Tony shook himself from head to toe.

Fucking hell.

 _Yeah,_ Bucky commented as he fired again, the words feeling like they'd been spoken for all that Tony knew they were perfectly silent, sending another officer to his grave, _I agree. Get that cube!_

Looked like they could trade more than just emotions now.

Tony waited out the second round of shots from the Howlies then dove for the street. He landed just to the left of the car, ignoring the damage he'd done to the road surface in the impact and the five or so Nazis he'd just knocked to the ground, then snatched up the cube just as the car's rear wheel threatened to hit it and send it skittering who knew where.

Before the men in the column got their acts together long enough to shoot at him, Tony had hit his bootjets again and sent himself soaring up into the air, angling up and away from the chaos. The Howlies and his own team had vanished from their perches, presumably en route to their hideyholes, but Tony didn't have eyes on any of them.

"What the fuck was that?" Jarvis yelled as he appeared at his side.

Tony winced, dodging a spray of machine gun fire just enough to make it ping off his belly armour harmlessly. "No idea, but it reminded me a lot of the way Bucky described Strucker's use of the Cube."

"You stopped responding to any of us," Jarvis hissed at him, his worry sounding more like anger in its intensity. "You ever do that again, and I'll shoot you out of the air myself!"

That would end very badly. Steve and Bucky would flip their lids and he himself wouldn't be far behind, albeit for very different reasons. He got the impression of a snort from his mates. Then, he 'heard' Bucky ask, _you okay?_

He was okay enough. They could sort out exactly what had happened -- and what to do about it -- later. For the moment, he and Jarvis needed to scram and get out of town so they could get out of sight.

 _Alright, go. Get to a safe spot,_ Steve told him, sounding less than pleased. Tony could just picture his mated's concerned frown. _We're secure for the time being._

Tony spared a moment to wonder about the rest of the Howlies and Rhodey, but he knew they couldn't linger. Jarvis took the lead, sending them out away from the city center and toward the Atlantic. The Gare St. Lazare flashed by beneath them and moments later they were passing over the Boulevard Bessières, which marked the northern edge of the city.

Every meter pained him, the separation from Steve and Bucky hurting on what might as well have been a physical level. It felt like a knot was growing behind his sternum, pressing on his heart and lungs, though that might just as well be on account of the maneuvers Jarvis was putting them through to keep their pursuit from shooting them down.

In his left hand the Cosmic Cube seemed to beckon, a candle to a moth.

It was ever so tempting to use the thing, and if he wasn't careful he didn't doubt that he'd do it without thinking. Or on accident.

"Hey," Jarvis broke into his thoughts again as their flight path leveled out, "you're going quiet again. Talk to me."

Tony shook his head to clear it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] This isn't strictly required for the fic to make sense, and nor is it background info, but who can resist a photo of the lovely lady? [Link](https://quotess.net/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/c37bd22b35492702c80fd7f8567b06e6--vintage-hollywood-classic-hollywood.jpg). Click here to return to text.


	45. [Steve POV]

Seeing Tony pull up into a hover and feeling him go distant, feeling oddly blue, had been the worst kind of worrying. It had been like watching his darkest nightmare unfold in front of him. 

Steve bit back a quiet whine at the emotions that memory awakened, and pulled Bucky more firmly against him.

The move got him a huff, and Bucky's arms tightened around him comfortingly. "I know," Bucky muttered, guessing very correctly what Steve had been thinking about. "That was terrifying."

It had taken both of them and Jarvis to get Tony to move out of the way long enough to let them take out Strucker, and those had been the longest thirty seconds of Steve's life, he was pretty sure. "You said it, Buck," he replied, low voiced, "but we got him back."

Right now what was bothering him most was not being able to haul Tony into his arms. Their third had had to get out of the city the moment he'd picked up that damned cube, but at least Jarvis was with him. He and Bucky had very nearly simply followed on foot, the temptation to do so nearly overwhelming. In fact they'd tried, until Tony had -- almost immediately -- figured out what they were up to and very firmly told them to stay put.

Follow the plan, he'd told them. They'd be back together before Steve or Bucky knew it.

He'd already been far too late with that reassurance, though. The moment he'd said it, it had been proven false, and all it had accomplished was to ensure they'd count the seconds until they saw Tony again.

Stuck in the tiny cellar Hawkeye had handed them a key to before they'd left his house, they were as good as trapped, for the time being, and they hated it. The small space was filled with a lot of junk. Rusted bicycles, gardening tools, and the strong smell of wet earth. It felt almost like being in a grave, to him, and that was far from a pleasant thought. For all that it kept them safe and out of reach of the German search parties combing the city, he hated it.

Tony gave the impression of a longing sigh over their bond, light and air and color. _I know, me too,_ he seemed to say. _want you here with me._

Bucky immediately responded with, _miss you,_ heat and kisses and flame.

Steve shuddered, reminded almost painfully strongly of that kiss Tony had stolen just before they'd split up for this mission.

"You okay, Steve?" Bucky asked him. 

With a shrug, Steve leaned in to rest their foreheads together, ignoring the fact that they were both still in full uniform. "Physically, sure. Could be leftover nerves."

"You're still worryin' about Tony?" Bucky added knowingly, bringing his hands up so that he could run them along Steve's spine to the edge of his new scale mail and then back down. 

The touch made Steve bite his lip, wishing he dared peel off his uniform, but that kind of play was the worst kind of dangerous when they might be discovered at any moment. It was also the most tempting. "Wishin' I could get my hands on him," he admitted. "I'm almost sure Strucker tried to control him the way he did you. Who knows what Tony's thinking right now."

"He feels mostly solid to me," Bucky told him, reassuring him that his read on the situation wasn't completely off base.

That Tony hadn't been shaken by the experience nearly as badly as Bucky had, and would be able to deal with being separated from them for a while, was reassuring. To a point. Steve knew he himself was handling the situation a lot better than he had when Bucky'd gotten snatched. Whether that was because Tony was free rather than metaphorically in chains, or because they'd had another week to let their bond stabilise, he had no idea. Might well be a mix of both. But all he'd gotten from Tony just then had been longing. There hadn't been much guilt or self-blame, though that was likely only because Tony's team and the Howlies had both gotten away clean, as had Hawkeye and Natalia.

"'Sides," Bucky added when the pause drew out enough that he felt the need to speak, "Tony's got the Cube an' we caused plenty of chaos in their upper echelons. Won't take long for them to find a new head, but first the news has to travel, an' then the infightin'll start."

Steve nodded, letting his head fall to rest on Bucky's right shoulder. "Yeah," he got out, "that's true."

They passed the next three hours or so in silence, trading shifts on watch. Bucky insisted Steve nap first, that he was too wound up to rest right then, and Steve didn't have it in him to disagree. He felt oddly drained by this mission, for all that it hadn't been all that physically taxing. Despite that, though, it took him a while to fall asleep, despite keeping his eyes shut and his thoughts away from things that would ensure he remained alert. When he did finally drift off, it was something of a relief, for all that they were still on their feet.

Bucky prodded at him about an hour and a half later, rousing him without much effort. Steve grumbled at him, getting an amused huff in reply. "Your turn to keep watch," was all he said. "Tony's been looking for attention. No other activity."

None of that was overly surprising. "Right," he acknowledged, stretching as best he could in the cramped space, "I'll wake you when it's time to leave."

"Mmm," Bucky nodded, rubbing the tip of his nose against the small exposed patch of skin at of Steve's neck, and started snoring quietly.

The sight and the warm wash of Bucky's breath over his skin were making him relax further, and then it finally sank in a little; they'd done it. The mission had been almost anticlimactically short after the way he'd built this up in his head, but that was secondary. Strucker was dead, and Tony had the Cosmic Cube in his possession. Their joint teams only had to get safely back out of Paris and back to London. Which was easier said than done.

Well, that and they had to decide what to do with the Cube. They sure as hell didn't want it in German hands, but Steve wasn't entirely convinced that it would be any less deadly in Allied hands. It might be best to simply 'lose' the thing in a dogfight over the Atlantic Ocean or something. Tony might have a good idea for how to deal with the thing. These sorts of artifacts were what he dealt with for a living, after all. Something that could alter reality and enslave people, chaining their will and rendering them unable to so much as twitch without their master's permission, needed to be kept out of humanity's grasp. It was true that one could do a lot of good with such an object, but the consequences of any given action were impossible to foresee. Ridding the world of polio, for example, might sound great, but what if that merely meant it was replaced by something even worse?

Steve forced down a shiver.

No, the Cube had to be put as far out of reach as possible. Maybe not even the ocean would be deep enough to swallow an object like that.

Immediately, he felt Tony reach out to him. _you okay?_

Not sure how to answer directly, Steve just tried to imagine telling Tony he was fine. That it was nothing more than uneasy thoughts making him twitchy.

He got the impression of a disbelieving snort in response. _I'll see you again in a few hours, and if you're not okay I--_

The words cut off, and Steve got the impression someone else was talking to Tony, distracting him from fretting over him. That was likely Jarvis, and Steve couldn't help but be grateful to him.

Tony cleared his throat. _I'll sic Bucky on you,_ he finished.

Bucky, thankfully, was still sound asleep. He mumbled something indistinct, then settled back into his nap.

Steve tried reaching out to Tony over the bond, the way they had when they'd broken Strucker's hold on Bucky, and then again when Bucky had tried to guilt himself into oblivion. It felt like reaching down into a dark still pool of water, and it chilled him, as he did. He had no idea whether it would work over such a long distance -- didn't know where Tony and Jarvis were, come to think of it, though Tony 'felt' far away -- but he knew he needed to try to calm Tony's worries before they drove him to return to the city to seek out his mates.

It took what seemed like an age while he stood there, feeling like ice was locking him in place, before Tony's hand took his, and then that same strange double vision they'd had the last couple of times was disorienting and confusing him. He was simultaneously standing in the little cellar with Bucky pressed against his chest, and in a strange grey void with Tony clinging to his hand like it was his only lifeline.

 _Steve?_ Tony asked him, sounding worried and much clearer than he did without leaning on the bond, _Is something wrong? You feel like you're worrying about something life-altering, and it's making me nervous._

Using Tony's grip on his hand, he pulled his missing third closer, then wrapped an arm around Bucky in the physical world. _Just trying to work out what we should do with the Cube,_ he replied and knew Tony would read a lot more of what he felt in those words than they outwardly contained. _It's not something we could leave with Strucker, but I'm not sure the Allied Command would be any better._

Tony snorted. _You're probably right about that. I've heard about a number of secret projects and superweapons that are in development and destructive enough to chill me to the bone. I haven't reached a decision either, but it's... tempting._

Steve winced. _Tempting?_

 _It's so tempting to use it, Steve, to try to cure the world's ills,_ Tony said, echoing Steve's thoughts so eerily closely it was enough to make him tense and tuck Bucky protectively close.

 _Don't. Not yet at least,_ Steve replied firmly. _Playing God is generally a bad idea. But maybe together we can make it work._

That got Tony nodding thoughtfully, and, eventually, smiling. _Together._

 _Together,_ Steve agreed and checked the watch he kept safely strapped to the inside of his shield arm. _We'll be getting underway soon. Another fifteen minutes or so, and we can break cover to meet Hawkeye._

His mated nodded again, then paused. _Where's Bucky?_

Steve couldn't help the sappy smile that he felt tugging at his lips where he pressed them against Bucky's hair, and knew Tony could tell it was there through their bond. _Leaning on me and sleeping._

 _Why do you two never do that kind of cute stuff around me? It's always when I'm not there to see it._ Tony said with a pout.

Steve had to actually think about that before he could answer. _It's not on purpose? Or even really conscious? We spent so long hiding what we are from the world that it just kind of... became habit._

He could tell he'd caught Tony off guard, though the answer hadn't surprised him. _Okay, but I demand you be cute for me in future._

The statement -- suitably outrageous for someone like Tony -- made Steve laugh, getting a pleased smile from Tony and jarring Bucky and waking him.

Bucky growled at him grumpily. "What're you so happy 'bout?" he asked after a beat.

"Tony is being his usual ridiculous self and demands we 'be cute' when he's around instead of just when it's only the two of us," Steve answered with a shrug.

Bucky eyed him oddly. "You gettin' words over the bond instead of just feelin's?"

That was interesting. "Only when I'm actively reaching out to him. I thought that was how you were staying in contact with him," Steve said slowly.

"Oh. Huh."

 _Steve?_ Tony prodded at him asking for his attention.

Before he could reply, Bucky wrapped his arms physically around him, and tentatively tried reaching out over the bond. Like last time, there was a feeling like something had snapped into place, and Tony jumped, surprised.

 _Ah, so that's what distracted you,_ Tony commented, smirking at him.

Bucky rolled his eyes at their third and reached out to take Tony's free hand, his irritation receding and making way for a mix of curiosity and wonder. _Is it always like this?_

 _Is what like what?_ Tony asked him, expression fond and tolerant.

 _The bond,_ Bucky said tartly, as though Tony had missed the obvious.

Steve hadn't been sure what Bucky'd meant either, but he decided not to draw attention to that. _Been a little different every time so far, for us,_ he answered carefully. _No idea if it'll stay like this. It's already changed a little each time we've done it. The first, we didn't talk. We just kinda... knew things. Second time, we used a few words. This time, it's like being in the same room._

For some reason, that made Tony look thoughtful and his expression take on an edge that Steve associated with sex.

Bucky smirked at their third. _You thinkin' what I'm thinkin'?_ he drawled, and used his free hand to reach out to Steve over the bond, completing their little triangle. Physically his hands ran down over Steve's back until he could take two handfuls of Steve's ass and grind against him, half-hard already.

 _Buck,_ Steve protested, _now's not the time._

Tony laughed at them. _It really isn't,_ he agreed. _Jarvis might actually follow through on some of his threats if I came in my pants in the armour. But we can experiment with this later, if you want._

Steve bit his lip to stifle the keening whine of need and want threatening to choke him. _Later,_ he agreed, mostly to get Bucky to stop rubbing against him.

Walking in his armour had a tendency to chafe after a while if he moved wrong, and he didn't want to deal with having a sore dick, healing factor or not.

With a disappointed sigh, Bucky relented. _Fine, fine, later._

 _We need to get on the road anyway,_ Steve added, talking to both his mates. 

_Right,_ Tony said with a crooked smile. _Be safe, Steve. Bucky._

Bucky took his hand back from Steve long enough to reach out and rest it over Tony's jaw so he could pull their third in for a kiss. _We'll be back with you before you know it._

Reluctantly, Steve forced himself to let go of Tony and drop back out of the bond. Bucky lingered a few moments longer before he took a deep breath and his eyes fluttered open. "I feel like I need to send my dick a telegram," he muttered, making Steve sputter and laugh. "Cool it for a few hours, stop. Back with Tony soon, stop."

"I'm not doing much better," he admitted and debated giving in to the urge to adjust himself in his pants.

Bucky groaned. "Wanna deal with the problem now? We could get away with taking five."

It was tempting. So damned tempting. Steve considered it. Then thought about trying to cross the kilometer and a half separating them from the rendezvous point with his pants chafing his dick. "Yeah," he agreed, surprising Bucky, who'd obviously expected him to veto the idea, and slid his hands around to undo the front of Bucky's pants so he could shove them down off his mated's hips along with Bucky's boxers. The tangled up fabric caught on Bucky's thighs, but that didn't matter. Steve had access to what he wanted, and didn't hesitate to take advantage.

Bucky bit his lip and hissed at the touch, leaning into him when Steve's hand wrapped around him, then took his hands off Steve's ass to return the favor. "Try not to come all over me," he said, then started kissing Steve breathless.

The bond between them flared with heat and want, need and love and desire, and Steve knew it wouldn't take much to make him come. He broke the kiss just long enough to reply. "No promises. Not gonna last."

Laughing at him again, enjoying his eagerness, Bucky leaned back in to recapture his lips and they drove each other higher, mercilessly riling one another up with the touches they knew their mate liked most. It felt like mere seconds went by, and then they were leaning against each other, breathing hard in the aftermath. 

"Wow," Bucky said as he fought to even his breathing, "that was really somethin'. I'm almost surprised Tony didn't come burstin' through the door."

"I'm sure he would've if he could," Steve replied in kind. "We might have to make it up to him later."

Glancing around the cellar they'd hidden in, Bucky searched fruitlessly for something to clean himself up with before giving in and digging in one of his belt pouches for the rag he used to clean his guns. Steve waited for him to finish, then swiped the rag out of Bucky's hand and cleaned himself up as well. Balling up the rag once they were done with it, Steve pulled his uniform pants back on, and waited just long enough for Bucky to do the same, and then they were moving. The ruined rag went into a trash bin Steve happened to spot as they walked past it, and a few minutes later they were crossing the Seine.


	46. [Bucky POV]

As Natalia had suggested, they kept to the smaller side roads as they made their way across the city. They crossed the river at the Pont de L'Alma, carefully making sure not to draw attention. The bridge itself was exposed and they were wearing distinctive gear, making this their most vulnerable moment, but thanks to the chaos they'd caused in the German ranks, there was no one watching as they hurried to the other side and down a series of tiny roads that ran parallel to the Avenue Bosquet.

Almost before Bucky knew it, the École Militaire and then the Hôtel des Invalides had disappeared amid the houses behind them, along with their generally large numbers of staff members and windows.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

Another few side streets whose names he didn't bother making note of, and then the walls of the Cimetiere Montparnasse came into view.

They'd made it to the rendezvous point, and somehow they'd done it without getting seen. Or, at least, without raising any alarms.

"We're a little early," Bucky pointed out as he surveyed the appropriately deserted cemetery. Despite taking care of each other, he added silently.

"Yeah," Steve replied quietly, "but Dumdum, Rhodey, Gabe, and Jacques are already here, and Monty and Morita are coming up the street. We're only missing our host and our contact."

"No, you're not," Hawkeye put in, making them both jump. He grinned at them, pleased by their reaction. "Still got it," he commented, and buffed his nails on his shirt. "Come on. Let's get you out of the city."

Bucky eyed him skeptically as they followed him into the cemetery, with the team falling in behind them automatically. "How exactly do you plan to do that, anyway? This place is a dead end."

Hawkeye chuckled. "Wait and see," he replied with a grin, as Natalia led them to a small stone mausoleum at the back of the cemetery.

Bucky eyed it. The tomb was about one and a half times the height and width of one of those outhouses you could see in a spaghetti Western, but only a little deeper. It had a metal door with a large ornamental-looking padlock on it, too. [1]

Dernier watched Natalia and raised an eyebrow at her back. "Tu veux rire!" he muttered at her.

"Pas du tout," she answered, "it's the safest way in and out of the city. But only as long as no one is watching this place." 

Gabe groaned, putting the pieces together as the lock fell open with a click. "Monty, please tell me we've still got that flashlight?"

Steve chuckled and put a hand on Gabe's shoulder. "You afraid of the dark, Jones?"

As Jones sputtered at his mated, Bucky sniggered.

Morita huffed, looking a bit irritated. "You have no idea what's down there, Cap, and neither do we. Now's not the time to be overconfident."

Hawkeye shrugged. "The tunnels aren't fully mapped out, so stick close," he put in. "And try not to touch anything, especially the pillars. Some of 'em are very delicate, and there have been cave-ins before."

Rhodey sighed. "This will be something to tell our grandkids about," he said with a wry grin. "Come on, down we go. Boss'll owe me one, or maybe five, after this."

Dumdum doffed his hat long enough to run his other hand through his hair. "Well, I guess a few hours in the dark is better than getting shot at," he agreed.

Natalia gave them a sweet smile. "Do not worry, we have safety gear stashed inside," she reassured them, then waited for them to file past her. Bucky pointedly waited until he and Steve were the only ones left.

"You realise this is asking for a helluva lotta trust," he asked her sardonically.

"Of course," she said and shrugged, "but I will be going with you. Hawkeye will lock up after us."

That did make it _slightly_ better, he had to admit. With a short nod, Bucky forced himself to duck through the door. Steve followed, close on his heels, and then a couple of bare seconds later, the door creaked shut behind them.

Monty lit the flashlight he'd been carrying since their arrival on French soil, and it seemed bright enough to be a star in the darkness of the narrow passage they found themselves in. The cold walls and the dampness of the air made Bucky shiver. It was eerily silent but for them, and reminded him a little too much for comfort of that time they'd had to hole up in a small crevasse in the Swiss Jura mountains and the lot of them had gotten frostbite on various parts of their bodies. They'd been lucky that no one had lost fingers or toes. Bucky was personally convinced that was solely because they'd been crammed in close enough together to keep one another warm.

"Well," he asked Natalia, "what now?"

She produced a second flashlight from somewhere on her person. "Now you let me lead, and follow carefully. It is not far to the supply stash."

Swallowing nervously, he nodded, feeling Tony prod at him over their bond, checking on him. Their mated clearly felt his unease and wanted to know what was happening. Bucky spared only a second to reply to him, leaning on the bond just long enough to try to say 'don't worry about me, I just don't like being underground.'

Tony's answering rush of emotion was mostly skepticism, but Bucky didn't bother trying to reassure him further. He needed to start paying attention to the route they were taking, rather than their third's mother henning.

Naturally, that didn't go over well.

Bucky bit down on a groan and a beat later Steve made a fond but irritated sound.

"We'll need to deal with this situation once we're at Natalia's supply stash," Steve told him quietly, "you got Tony all riled up."

Just ahead of them, following the rest of the team gamely down the straight tunnel, Dumdum snorted. "That doesn't take much, does it."

"He'll calm down," Bucky predicted, "but the last month's been tough on all'a us."

Dumdum made a disbelieving noise and picked his way delicately over some rocks strewn across the tunnel floor that were barely visible in the dimness. "Guess we'll see."

They came to a T-junction, then, where they turned right and made their way past two irregularly shaped shafts that led down into even deeper darkness. Bucky glanced over the lip of one and saw nothing but black, even with his better-than-average eyesight. He bit his lip and kept walking. 

After that, the amount of obstructions lessened for a while and they passed two more T-junctions without turning down either side tunnel. He estimated they covered about 300 meters before Natalia paused just long enough to let all of them catch up to her and following a narrower tunnel, just wide enough for Steve and his shield to fit through if he was careful, that branched off to their left and wound around a few curves. There were bricks and bits of masonry littering the floor, making the footing here more treacherous, and Bucky was reminded of Hawkeye's warning about cave-ins. Where had those bricks originally been placed? Overhead?

He resisted the urge to look up or cover his head.

Soon after that, they reached a fourth T-junction and Natalia turned left, then right soon afterwards. This last tunnel showed signs of more frequent use. The air was a little fresher and there were occasionally footprints visible in the fine pebbles on the floor.

Ten meters or so later, they came to a small round chamber with a pillar at the center that looked unstable, even in the dim light of their flashlights.

"Alright," Natalia said, "we've reached the supplies, but they are guarded. Let me do the talking."

The moment she finished speaking, an unfamiliar voice demanded, "Qui va là?"

"Un Américain en Paris," Natalia replied, and then added, "et sa bande."[2]

"Bon, entrez," the unknown man accepted the answer. "Vous êtes en retard."

Natalia didn't do more than shrug, then led them past the guard, who peered at them suspiciously. The guy did a double-take when he recognised them, though, and swore. "Dernier! Tu es ici? Et les autres aussi? Qu'est-ce qui ce passe?"

Dernier laughed and reached out to offer the guy his hand to shake, and Bucky recognised one of the men they'd broken out of Peenemünde, whose name he'd forgotten.

"Jean-Pierre, mon ami, le commandant Strucker est mort et nous avons besoin de sortir de Paris," Dernier informed the guy.

Startled, Jean-Pierre stared at him, then nodded. "Bonne chance à vous alors. Les allemands ne renoncera pas à la recherche."

And then, they were stepping past Jean-Pierre and into a largeish chamber that had been reinforced and turned into a bunker. It was reasonably well lit and ventilated, and there were desks covered with code books and radios throughout the relatively cramped space.

Natalia led them into the center of the bunker, past several smaller rooms that Bucky suspected were sleeping quarters, and then stopped at a door that led to a larger room filled with food stocks and other supplies. She caught Steve's eyes and then Bucky's, before she turned to the group as a whole and said, "Take three flashlights and a meal to eat later. Once we leave here, we will not be stopping until we are outside the city. After that, we part ways, and you are on your own. We will be taking the most direct route possible, but it is partially flooded at times. If you wish, bring one towel, too."

Monty made a face, and exchanged a look with Morita. "Let's take that towel," Morita suggested. "That way we can at least strip down and keep our pants and boots dry."

"Only one of the flooded sections is unavoidable," Natalia added with a subtly amused smirk.

Bucky nodded. "Good," he muttered as he stepped past her into the storeroom and started looking around at the various supplies on the shelves, "then we won't have to walk around wet in this cold for long."

It didn't take him long to locate the flashlights and hand three to Gabe who was standing just outside the door. He found the towels next, and passed one of those along as well. The bit of terrycloth was thin and a little bit scratchy, but still a lot better than nothing.

As he started sorting through the stacks of pre-packaged meals to pick out one menu he knew everyone would eat -- even if they didn't necessarily like it -- he felt Steve reach out over their bond to make contact with Tony. Bucky stacked the boxes in his arms and waited out the disorientation that always seemed to hit him when Steve did anything intensive with their bond, ever since his time under Strucker's thumb. Before he could get any more tangled up in his thoughts, he felt Tony relax and Steve let go of their bond.

He hadn't properly felt Tony's worry and stress until it had lessened. Shaking his head to clear it a little, he grabbed for eight of the meals he'd picked out and stepped back out of the storeroom. "Hey, Morita, you've got the least gear on you. You got room for the food?" he demanded.

Morita eyed the eight rations. "Not for all of them. Rhodes?"

"I can take a couple," Rhodey agreed, "but why don't we just hand 'em out now? Doesn't everyone have room for one ration in their pack?"

The team exchanged a slightly rueful look at having overlooked the obvious. Steve nodded, "I think we can can swing that," he said, as his team shrugged off their packs one by one and crammed their future dinners inside.

Natalia surveyed the scene, waiting patiently until they'd finished getting themselves organised, then caught their attention, her expression deadly serious as she repeated her warning once more. "All of you stay close. Do not wander off or search for us if you get separated from the group. Just stay where you are and I will come find you. These tunnels are not fully charted, and the periodic collapses mean that the charts we do have are often incorrect."

She got a round of nods and quiet 'ayes' from the assembled group and Bucky winced at the thought of getting lost under the Parisian streets.

No, thank you.

"Follow me," she said simply, and headed for the far side of the bunker.

They went through a door, and then down a series of long straight tunnels that seemed to blur into infinity, stretching off into the distance farther than their flashlights could illuminate, both behind them and in front of them. There were occasionally piles of rock or masonry to climb gingerly over or pillars to avoid touching with their bodies and their packs. Steve, with his damned shield on his back, had the most trouble with those.

And then, eventually, Natalia stopped at the edge of a pool of water. The only reason Bucky could tell it was water, was the way their flashlights reflected off of the surface. It was as pitch black as the rest of the tunnel, and so still it was like glass.

Rhodey was the one to break their silence. "So how deep is that?" he asked her, sounding mostly calm.

He got a shrug in response. "Perhaps waist-deep? But it is quite cold."

"Great," Morita muttered.

Steve made an amused sound. "Won't be any worse than jumping in a mountain stream in winter," he commented, keeping his voice low enough that it only carried a little bit.

"Weren't you the one who managed to stay dry while the rest of us slipped on those rocks, got wet, and nearly caught pneumonia?" Monty grumbled at him.

Bucky nodded. "Yeah, he was, an' I'm tempted to dump him headfirst into this little puddle just to see how deep it really is," he put in his two cents.

Steve scowled at him. Natalia rolled her eyes, but to Bucky's eye she looked amused. "I don't care how you do it, but you have five minutes to join me on the far side," she told them, then pulled off her boots and pants and waded into the water with a visible shiver. Gabe and Monty stared at her for a while, taking in the sight of her bared skin, until Steve cleared his throat pointedly.

After a few more seconds of grumbling, the Howlies did the same. They waded through the water one by one, placing their feet carefully and holding their boots and pants above the surface. Bucky had to grit his teeth against the chill of the water, which really was fucking freezing, and made the air in the tunnel seem warm in comparison. He was damned thankful that at least the flooded part of the tunnel was only a few meters long and mostly unobstructed.

It took them a couple of minutes spent shivering and trying not to squabble too loudly over the towel to get their boots and pants back on so that they could continue.

By the time they'd reached her and finished putting themselves back together, Natalia had contrived to look as poised and composed as she had from the moment they'd met her, leaning casually against a wall that Bucky assumed she knew was stable. "Everyone ready to continue?" she asked them.

"Yeah," Steve replied, "let's go. I'm starting to get tired of this place."

"Amen to that," Rhodey said under his breath.

Natalia nodded, and took off again without a word, leading them farther down the tunnels. There were a couple of other flooded sections they had to get past, but both were possible to traverse without getting themselves wet, so long as they paid close attention to where they planted their boots. This time, unlike that time in the mountains that Steve had referenced, no one got dunked.

Once they were past the dark pool, everyone relaxed slightly. For all that they _knew_ the waters weren't endlessly deep, they sure looked the part and it was unnerving.

And then, at long goddamn last, Natalia paused and waited for them to gather around her in a small round chamber. "Above us," she said, "is an access to the city's metro network [3]. Once we climb up, we will have to be careful that we are not spotted, but it makes a convenient way to get back up to street level. It is very near the edge of the city, and when you are back in the open, you are on your own. I will not be accompanying you any farther. The least closely watched route is to go through the Porte d'Orleans and then south through the outskirts. Good luck, and thank you for your assistance."

Dumdum huffed. "We should be thanking you," he said slowly. "Without you and Hawkeye, we would have had a lot more trouble getting this done."

Monty nodded. "Hear hear."

The comments got them a smile, and then Natalia was climbing up a ladder that consisted of some steel bars driven directly into the rock.

The Howlies started climbing after her, and Rhodes watched them for a few seconds, then shook his head and muttered. "Still better than that time the Boss used a goddamn snake as a rope."

Bucky's eyebrows shot up, and he heard Steve stifle laughter. What the Hell had Tony gotten up to that had required him to do _that_? Jesus.

He made a note to ask about that story later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] So. The tombs in the Cimetiere Montparnasse are a type of mausoleum, actually, rather than graves dug in the ground, and the reason for that is that it's pretty much impossible to dig a grave in the type of ground Paris is built on. Not to mention that it would be a health hazard. So instead they built things that look [like this](https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Tombs_by_type#/media/File:Perelachaise-p1000391.jpg). These are also a thing in a few other places, like New Orleans, that were under French control and also below sea level when the cemetaries in question were built. The problem with being below sea level? Bodies float on water and therefore dug graves don't work. If I remember correctly, they first tried dug grave burials in New Orleans, but had the problem that the bodies literally floated back up through the fine silty ground to the surface. Click here to return to text.
> 
> [2] This is a nod to the code phrases of the French Resistance. They liked to use them to [send radio messages to their compatriots](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Radio_Londres), among other things. This particular reference is to an orchestral score and a movie that share the same title: [An American in Paris](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/An_American_in_Paris_\(film\)). The movie was produced in 1951, after the end of the War, but the score would have been known, then, being produced in 1928. Click here to return to text.
> 
> [3] This whole sequence in the catacombs is based on an actualfax map thereof, and as accurate as I could make it. As stated in the text, there are legit periodic collapses, so the network of catacomb passages marked in the map I found very likely isn't quite the same as it was, then. But the reference to the French Resistance using the catacombs is an event that actually happened. And the Métro network is also as accurate as possible, based on this [map of the Métro as it was in 1939](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paris_M%C3%A9tro#/media/File:M%C3%A9tro_parisien_%C3%A9tat_du_r%C3%A9seau_en_1939.jpeg). Click here to return to text.


	47. [Tony POV]

After he and Jarvis had escaped the city proper and found a relatively secluded spot to hole up in and wait, Tony had spent a while simply trying to process what had just happened. The blue fog that had descended on him had to have been on account of Strucker's use of the Cube. That much was pretty obvious. But it hadn't felt like coercion. More like seduction. It had been a siren song that he hadn't been able to ignore, despite the interference from his soulmates and Jarvis.

It hadn't been until Strucker had met his demise that he'd been able to truly shake off the strange sensation of dissociation and distance, and then he'd been forced to grab the cube and run. And then he'd had something like three and a half hours to waste, while the Howlies and Rhodey waited for the chaos in the city to die down enough that they could make their escape.

Tony spent the first hour just mulling over the way he didn't really feel any different, now. Even knowing that Strucker was gone, hopefully for good. It was strange. He didn't feel relief, or sadness, or much of anything, and that was almost worrying. Had Strucker's use of the Cube done something to his capacity for feelings? He shuddered and reached out for the bond, almost reflexively. The idea was not a pleasant one, and he wished it had never crossed his mind.

Bucky replied to him after a beat, sounding like he was distracted by something. _tony, what's going on? You alright?_

The worry and watchfulness that were coming from his mated, that he could feel and latch onto, settled him faster than anything else could have. Save maybe Steve's presence in the bond. Tony got the impression of a raised eyebrow in response to that thought, and realised Bucky had somehow understood enough of it to reply.

 _take a nap, tony,_ Bucky told him firmly. _you need the rest just as much as Steve does._

Tony huffed. Sleeping in his armour was one of the more difficult propositions he'd ever heard. And he was far too wound up besides.

"You gonna take off that armour?" Jarvis asked him, breaking into the conversation.

"Hadn't decided," Tony replied, eyeing the Cube in its makeshift pouch briefly. "If we have to make a run for it, I don't want to be caught with my metaphorical pants down."

That made Jarvis snort, but he let the topic go and they fell silent again for a few seconds.

 _tony_ , Bucky told him, _rest._

With a sigh, he gave in. Even if sleep was impossible, he could at least close his eyes.

Or. Tony smirked to himself. Or he could try to dream up some fun to have with his soulmates once they had a bed to themselves again.

Trying that made his vision go blueish again, though, and his eyes snapped open.

"Jarvis?" he asked warily, "you don't feel any different than normal, do you?"

"No," his old friend answered, giving him a measuring look, "but judging by that question, you do. What's happening?"

Tony put up the faceplate of his armour and gave Jarvis a wry look. "The Cube seems to want something. The feeling's less intense than when Strucker tried to lure me in, but it's still there, trying to tempt me. Making me see everything overlaid in blue."

Jarvis scowled. "How do we stop it?"

"Well, it left me alone while I was leaning on my bond with Bucky a minute ago," he answered.

"Then you'd better keep leaning on that bond of yours," Jarvis told him, underscoring the point with a sharp gesture of his armoured hand.

And the worst of it was, Tony couldn't really disagree. He suspected it would grate on Bucky if he were to do that, but for all their sakes, he had to, until -- or unless -- he could find another way to resist the Cube's call. He spent the next two hours or so periodically prodding at their bond, opening it just long enough to check in with his soulmate without bugging him too much, to keep from giving in to the lingering nagging feeling that he could fix so many ills if he just let the Cube help him.

After a while, Bucky had told him that he would be sleeping for the next hour and a half or so and to go bug Steve.

That, luckily, had also worked to keep the Cube from overwhelming his common sense. For about an hour anyway. Then, just before Steve had reached for him, Tony had very nearly gotten caught in the Cube's net. He'd gotten careless and waited a little too long to reach out for balance. After a few long seconds he'd managed to reach back, and Steve had felt cold to the touch, almost frozen, though he'd warmed up again quickly.

After a minute, Bucky had joined them.

The way his two soulmates had made time for one another the moment he'd let go of the bond had been nigh on torture. He'd gotten hard almost immediately, and then had to 'listen in' while the two of them enjoyed themselves. Had he had any kind of privacy, he'd have given in to the need to get himself off then and there and to hell with Jarvis' obsession with keeping the armour clean inside and out.

He'd still been flying high on the emotions he'd gotten from them some fifteen minutes later, when he'd felt both his soulmates go skittish and nervous. That little bit of whiplash had left him reeling. It had also been rather alarming and incidentally relieved him of his personal issue. Having Bucky indirectly inform him shortly afterwards that the Howlies and Rhodey would be making their way out of the city _underground_ had been worse.

Not because he didn't trust in them, or because they weren't capable, or anything like that.

No, he knew damned well just how unstable the tunnels under Paris were and how risky it was to spend long periods of time down there, and he did _not_ like knowing that the Howlies, with their collective ability to attract any gunfire in a two mile radius, were going to be travelling over a kilometer and a half in those small dark spaces.

Steve had tried his best to be reassuring, and Tony had done his best to be reassured. But the knowledge wouldn't let him be. His soulmates had ventured down into the darkness of the catacombs some two long hours ago now, and he couldn't seem to get his mind off the topic. It kept throwing worst-case scenarios at him, each somehow worse than the last, and trying to stop them from coming didn't--

Jarvis rolled his eyes at him. "You're about as nervy as a cat expecting ten kittens," he grumbled. "Sit down and write in your journal or something."

Tony made a face at his old friend. "I'd love to, old bird, but the moment I stop letting myself worry about my soulmates is the moment I have to start fighting off the Cube's influence again. We've had a couple of close brushes with it already, as you damned well know."

"Hmph. It's hitting you a lot harder than me," Jarvis replied, and stretched.

"And I've not the faintest idea why," Tony shot back, "but I'm glad of it."

The anxiety coming from Bucky and Steve suddenly lessened, then, and Tony almost went limp with relief himself.

Jarvis raised an eloquent eyebrow at him, and Tony shrugged. "They've probably managed to get back above ground," he answered the unasked question.

"Good," Jarvis said with a decisive nod. "That means we can radio Pepper and Carol to come pick us up and fly down to get the others."

Tony fought the urge to fly to his mates' side on the spot, knowing Jarvis' solution was likely the better of the two. "Finally."

As he fought to clear his mind and strap himself back into his armour, Tony half-listened as Jarvis suited actions to words, then took things a step farther and radioed the airfield in Chartres to clear the airship for landing, knowing that any female voice attempting the same would instantly raise suspicion.

About the time Tony was flight ready once more, Jarvis turned to him. "I've arranged for the airship to meet us just outside Chartres. As long as we're not aboard, there's no real reason for the Jerries to stop them from crossing the border. We'll have to board on the fly and then make sure we're not seen while the airship refuels, but that should be no problem for anyone."

Tony nodded. "Right. Let's get moving. I'll let the team know and then we're in the air. We can wait for them somewhere in the vicinity."

"There should be a good enough stand of trees for that," Jarvis agreed. "Contact them."

Taking a deep steadying breath, Tony reached out for their bond and tugged at it, trying to get their attention. It didn't take long for them to respond.

This time Bucky replied first, surfacing like he was coming up from a deep dive and taking a gasp of air. _Tony? What's wrong?_ He asked, the words coming across the bond a bit haltingly, less practiced than Steve's. 

_New rendezvous point,_ Tony sent back, keeping the words concise and layering them with his relief and need to see Bucky and Steve again. _Northern outskirts of Chartres. Airship will meet us there._

Bucky seemed to sag with relief in his turn, echoing Tony's response to their emergence from the tunnels. _I'll let Steve know._

And with that, the contact broke, leaving Tony wondering why Steve hadn't joined them and whether they were being tailed or something. The abrupt way Bucky had let go implied that he couldn't let himself be distracted for long.

Thankfully, before he could start biting his nails to the quick over that, it was time to get moving. From their hideyhole on the northern end of the city, they needed to quietly get across or around it and then into the farmlands beyond.

Jarvis took possession of the leather pack they'd lifted out of someone's unlocked car -- and whose contents they'd emptied out onto the passenger seat -- which had become their means of transporting the Cube somewhat discreetly. The thick leather hid the artifact's glow, and the shoulder strap was just long enough that Jarvis could loop it around his neck without it interfering with his movement. After it was situated securely, he turned to Tony and asked, "around the city or over it?"

Tony considered the question for a moment. "Over would result in a shorter flight, but probably also a lot more small and medium calibre guns pointed at us. Around puts us in the path of the city's German anti-air emplacements. Neither is ideal. If you want to avoid getting shot at, we'd do best to fly out to meet the airship after it's crossed onto French soil."

Jarvis sighed. "That would only make the airship the target, rather than us," he pointed out. "If we go to meet them, we'll be well within range of the coastal defenses and artillery emplacements."

"I'd say around, just to keep the number of people who spot us to a minimum, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't matter," Tony said and shrugged as best he could in hit armour. "That said, we can make a wide arc and still get to the rendezvous point on time, rather than sticking close to the city limits and then heading south."

"That's probably the best we'll get," Jarvis agreed. "Lead the way, I'll follow."

Taking to the sky was enough to let him shed some more of his worries and enjoy the way the acceleration from his bootjets pressed him against his harness. The sensation of the air flowing over his wings was even better. He hadn't felt that in far too long, either. The few moments during their assassination mission didn't count, Tony decided, what with the way Strucker had been messing him up with the Cube at the time.

They left behind the small wood they'd been hiding out in, between Paris and the much smaller satellite town of Cergy, without much remorse, both of them feeling the urge to get the Hell out of dodge and back to the friendlier side of enemy lines. As it shrank below them, Tony turned west, leaving the outskirts of Paris as far below him and to his left as he dared. He didn't want to draw the attention of any potential planes that might be passing through the area, but he couldn't venture too low either, or he'd risk getting more attention from people on the ground than he wanted.

Something like three minutes later, he turned south, taking a gentle banked path that led them over a patchwork of fields planted with corn, wheat, and other crops he couldn't readily identify from altitude.

Forty uneventful minutes later, he and Jarvis were touching down in a new copse of trees, to the northeast of Chartres' airfield, and stripping their armours back off. It would be several hours yet before the airship arrived to join them, and at least one and a half before the Howlies did, barring any unforeseen obstacles.

Tony wanted to groan. Waiting games were one of the worst things about his job. It was nigh on physically painful to hang around and do nothing while his mates and their team did their damnedest to sneak through some seventy kilometres of enemy territory to get to him.

In response, he got a wordless mix of amusement, reassurance, and understanding from both of his mates. 

Somehow, though, the time passed, sliding by imperceptibly until suddenly, the Howlies were appearing all around them, seemingly out of thin air, with big grins on their faces.

Jarvis scowled at them. "You idiots better not have gotten yourselves hurt," he grumbled. "I'm getting heartily sick of patching you up over and over."

Gabe huffed at him. "Not like it's exactly intentional," he shot back as Rhodey appeared out of the group to come up to Tony.

"Next time you and your crazy group of tame Commandos force me to walk through literal miles of unstable tunnels there'd better be more than a pat on the back in reward," his pilot told him, making Tony chuckle.

"I had no idea that was part of the plan or I'd have warned you," he defended himself, "but I'll see if I can't guilt the brass into giving us some real downtime when we debrief."

Rhodey nodded. "See that you do."

"They might insist on sending us out again while the Reich is destabilised. That'd be the best time to hit 'em hard," Bucky pointed out.

Steve made a face. "They'd be right, too," he said on a sigh, "but we can worry about that later. First we have to get to the airship and get home."

Morita made a show of looking up and around. "Where is the airship, anyway?"

Jarvis gave him a sardonic look. "Rhodes is the one with the soulmate aboard."

"Carol and I can't talk like that yet," Rhodey retorted, drawing himself up slightly defensively. "Use your radio, man."

That brought Tony's attention to the peculiarity of his bond to Steve and Bucky that he'd noticed but disregarded, and he considered it as Jarvis used his armour's radio to contact Pepper; the three of them could talk over their bond, and far earlier in the progression than was generally expected. There was no way of knowing whether that was because they were a triad, because he knew enough about soulmate bonds to manipulate his side of things, because of the Cube's influence, or something else entirely. But after Jarvis' lecture earlier that afternoon, he wasn't about to keep quiet about it.

That didn't mean, however, that he was willing to talk about it out in the open and with both their teams present.

Bucky's hand landed on his shoulder, and their eyes met. "What're you worryin' about this time, Tony?"

"Nothing to do with our mission. Just... trying to work out what will happen next," Tony told him, keenly aware that everyone was listening to them, for all that most of them were pretending to do other things. The Howlies were a protective bunch.

Dumdum snorted. "That's a fool's errand, Stark. Leave it to the brass to worry about that."

"First we need to get back to London," Monty agreed, "then we can concern ourselves with the next step." 

Jarvis smiled, satisfied. "Well, lucky for us, we'll be underway in half an hour. Ms. Danvers and Pepper will pick us up here on their way to Chartres airfield, and then we'll moor there for a few hours. Rhodes and I will get the airship refueled while they amuse themselves shopping, or doing something else innocuous, and then we'll get back underway. Officially, our flight plan has us headed for Madrid, so we won't be heading directly to London. First we'll have to get out of direct line of sight and radio range."

He got nods from everyone and they made themselves comfortable. Steve and Bucky took Tony by his arms and steered him toward a convenient fallen log that they could all sit on more or less comfortably. They settled themselves with Tony between them and made sure they had their hands on his skin somehow. They were reasonably subtle about it, but it was beyond obvious to everyone present that what they were after was some skin contact.

Rhodey watched them for a few seconds that felt like they dragged, then made an amused sound and turned away. "Goddamn," he complained to Dumdum, "they're so sappy it gives me toothaches just watching."

Dumdum chuckled. "You're just as bad when it comes to your dame," he pointed out.

Dernier was more practical about it. "Ne sous-estimez pas la puissance de l'espoir," he said quietly. 

Steve cleared his throat. "You know I'm right here, right?" he asked mildly.

"Yep," Dumdum replied with a grin, "much more fun to gossip where you can hear it."

Tony rolled his eyes and ignored them after that. "You two okay?" he asked instead. "You were both pretty tense in those tunnels."

"We're fine," Bucky told him. "Especially now that we ain't down there anymore. The bit with the flooded section was a bit unnerving but we just got a little damp."

Not entirely sure he believed that response, Tony nodded gamely along. He could get more details aboard the airship. "Good."

They spent the rest of the quoted half hour resting. Tony ended up leaning against Steve with Bucky plastered to his other side and their three left hands tangled together in his lap.

The Howlies, Rhodey, and Jarvis chatted quietly over and around them but it didn't bother Tony at all. It felt like home. Family. And whatever warmth that made him feel, made Steve and Bucky pleased as punch. The nagging need to do something about the Cube vanished into the background, a vague hum that he could easily ignore, and he happily did, letting the bond soothe him. 

It hadn't been easy, being away from his mates even for as short a mission as this one had turned out to be. And he could tell that his mates felt the same.

And then the buzz of the airship's engines rose in the air. 

"Time to go, boys," Rhodey declared, standing up from his position, crouched and leaning against a convenient tree.

Gabe grinned. "About time we got out of dodge, I'd say," he put in. "Pretty sure we're not welcome here anymore."

Dernier nodded. "Nous serions chez nous pour le diner."

Monty nodded as they watched the ladder unfurl. "And just as well. I can't say I'll be sorry to be home."

Steve shook his head as he stood and urged Tony to his feet. "Enough chatter, start climbing," he demanded pointedly, for all that he was grinning too.

Once he was on his feet, Tony hurried into his armour and watched the Howlies climb as he did. He was flight ready about the time Morita, the first to grab the ladder and haul himself up, reached the airship. Jarvis wasn't far behind him, either. They exchanged a look and nodded.

"I'll stay here until everyone is aboard," Tony said.

Jarvis eyed him skeptically. "The last time you did that you got yourself injured. You're going up now and I'll keep watch."

Tony scowled, wanting to refute that, before he gave in. "You're all a bunch of mother hens," he muttered mulishy. 

"Go," Jarvis insisted.

Steve added his support to the idea. "We'll be right behind you, and if you get yourself shot again we won't be pleased."

Tony wanted to pinch the bridge of his nose and swear at them. He forewent the pinching -- doing that while in his armour was not the best idea if he wanted to avoid a broken nose -- and kept the swearing mostly silent.

Bucky gave him an amused look and let his fingers trail over Tony's cheekbone, sending a jolt of remembered worry and affection through him before flipping the armour's faceplate down. "Get going, Tony," he said, and then stepped back to grab the ladder and follow Rhodey up.

Steve wasn't far behind their third, and Tony realized with a jolt that they were the last ones on the ground regardless. Shaking off his near-reverie, he hit his bootjets and sent himself soaring up into the air. His wings spread on instinct as he zipped past the Commandos who were still climbing.

This time nothing went wrong and they all got aboard without getting discovered. 

If he hadn't known better, Tony would have thought the Cube was smoothing the way for them somehow.


	48. [Steve POV]

Once they'd gotten aboard the airship, they'd had a few tense moments before they'd been able to get back out of French airspace.

In Chartres, the airship had gotten inspected, and the Howlies, who had nothing to wear except their very distinctive field gear, had been forced to hide in a tiny hidden compartment of Tony's cargo bay. Tony had hidden them behind his armour in a space as small at they could stand to cram themselves into, and Steve had found that weirdly poetic.

The inspection itself had taken rather longer than planned, despite everything, and had had Steve wanting to laugh; the reason for the inspection had been nothing more nor less than personal motivation. The man doing it had turned out to be a Frenchman and a Marvels fan basically angling for a tour.

Tony had given him one, distracting him with stories about his adventures in Asia and telling him some nonsense about a recent run in with a magical artifact in South America that had given him those wings the news had raved about for a week.

Once that had finally drawn to a close and the 'inspector' had been escorted back off the airship with a couple of autographs that he guarded like gold, Tony had helped them back out of their hideyhole, laughing.

Refueling the airship had been less fraught, and gone off without interruption.

Despite that, their trip back across the French borders and over the Channel was going to be artificially delayed until nightfall, in a move that was very much intentional on Tony's part. Jarvis agreed. So did Steve.

That meant they'd be tougher to spot and hit, if anyone took offense to their presence or trajectory. As it was, only Tony's reputation for being a lone wolf uninterested in taking sides in the war was saving them from detainment. And even that might not last if they lingered too long. It was only a matter of time until the news broke that Tony had been in Paris when Strucker got assassinated, and then all Hell would break loose. 

Tony sidled up to him and wrapped an arm around Steve's waist, breaking him out of his thoughts. "You're brooding again," he opened, working one hand under Steve's shirt to touch skin, "and worried about something."

Steve shrugged. "Hard not to be. We're behind enemy lines and only safe from enemy fire for as long as it takes for news to spread. That won't be long."

Tony sighed and Steve felt his mated's resigned agreement. "I know, and it's got me on edge, too. But until it happens we're fine. We're refueled and ready to leave at a moment's notice, if we have to. We're as prepared as we can be."

Turning and wrapping Tony up in his arms, Steve buried his nose in Tony's hair and held him close for a few seconds before he asked, "Where's Bucky got to?"

"Waiting for us in my room," Tony replied without hesitation. "He wanted to shower off the tunnel grime."

Steve bit back a pleased smirk at the strong wash of lust that accompanied the words. It was always good to know that Tony wanted them just as much as they wanted him. He knew he looked good, but the way Tony seemed to want to worship him with lips, fingers, teeth, and tongue, more or less at the drop of a hat, was far more convincing than any words could be. "And you," he replied, keeping his voice mild, "decided to come find me instead of getting your hands on him?"

"I wanted to get my hands on both of you," Tony told him without missing a beat, and tucked his fingers boldly into the waistband of Steve's pants. 

Biting his lip and laughing, Steve pointed out, "You've only got one of us so far."

In pointed answer, Tony started walking back to his room without letting go of his grip on Steve's pants. "Not for long, pal."

Shaking his head, Steve went with it. Keeping his spot at the forward railing, staring out at the horizon and thinking about the obstacles they'd overcome, was far less interesting than what Tony was so openly offering. He had to work to keep silent until they were safely inside Tony's room before he asked, "Does that mean you'll let me hold you up and take you against the wall?"

Bucky, sauntering in from the adjoining bathroom, smirked. "Now that would be a sight worth seeing," he commented. "But don't we need to deal with the Cube first?"

Tony made a face and sighed settling on the edge of the bed and reaching for the leather pack Jarvis had crammed the Cube into and hauling it into his lap but not opening it up. "I guess we should," he conceded. "Otherwise it'll just keep nagging at us."

Steve watched Bucky settle next to Tony then took the spot at Tony's other side. "So how do we do this, exactly?" he inquired.

"No idea," Tony admitted, "but based on what we've seen it do to single people, I'm not inclined to mess with it alone. It _tempts_ you and tries to convince you to use it."

Bucky considered that. "So does that mean you just want us in the room? Or do we gotta do somethin'?"

"I want you in the bond, too," Tony told him, then looked at Steve. "Both of you."

Steve nodded, suddenly feeling a hint of ice shiver down his spine that reminded him of the night they'd gotten Bucky back. Closing his eyes and reaching out to put his hand on Tony's skin, he reached for the bond. 

A moment later, Tony was reaching back and then the bizarre double vision that came with their use of the bond snapped into place. Steve shivered as he suddenly felt the pressure the Cube was exerting on Tony. It was like being shouted at constantly and insistently by a crowd of people who wanted nothing more than to help you. 

Before he could get any farther, Bucky joined them, reaching out to them both, and then the shouting dimmed. It was like someone had taken the voices and shoved them into a drawer, then shut it.

Tony reacted like a heavy weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He took a shuddering breath and straightened his back and shoulders, then relaxed into their hold.

 _goddamn that's better,_ he said into the bond, _what a load off._

Bucky huffed and hid a smile in Tony's skin near the nape of his neck. _so now what?_ he asked.

 _now_ Tony replied, _we give this a try._

Taking the Cube out of the leather bag and holding it at eye level, Tony stared deep into its depths.

For all that it was small enough for Tony to hold it in one hand, it seemed bottomless. Endless. Steve felt its attempts to sway Tony reintensify and then it was talking to all three of them. It was like a wordless whisper.

Bucky made an awed sound and reached out to physically put his hand on the Cube. Steve hesitated a second, then did the same, and suddenly the wordless murmur resolved onto words. They were in a language he didn't speak, but they were words.

A wave of unease went through Tony, and then he tried speaking to the Cube in English. _hey, can I ask you something?_

 _ **ASK!**_ it responded eagerly.

Steve was reminded of an energetic puppy.

_what can you do?_

_**ANYTHING! JUST IMAGINE!** _

Imagine? Steve blinked at it. Did that mean it could make whatever they imagined reality?

 _ **YES! IMAGINE!**_ it told him. 

Tony looked and felt like he'd seen a ghost.

Bucky leaned in to drop a reassuring kiss on his forehead, then asked the Cube, _so you could make Tony's wings and tail invisible to everyone that's not on our team or his?_

_**EASY!** _

There was no visible change, but since they were both among the people Bucky had suggested should still be able to see Tony's wings, they'd have to wait until Agent Carter and their other two CO's appeared to debrief them to test whether or not the Cube had done what Bucky had suggested.

Tony smiled and picked up the thread. _do you think you could take out the repulsor pump and heal the damage?_ he asked, sounding like he expected a 'no' and was prepared to accept that. 

That time the reply took longer. _**BIG CHANGE,**_ it said, sounding almost thoughtful. _**LIKE ADDING WINGS. HM. DIFFICULT BUT TRY.**_

That time it took almost half a minute for anything to change. Just as Steve was about to ask the Cube his own question, though, curious about the fact that it seemed to remember Tony, Tony made a sharp, surprised sound and all but doubled over, physically. The bond flickered, seeming to go in and out of focus like a badly tuned radio, and Tony's physical grip on their hands went so tight that Steve winced.

Startled by the intensity of the emotion and the pain coming from Tony, Steve came within instants of letting go of the bond in favor of getting their third to Jarvis. Would have, if Tony hadn't squeezed his hand hard again and held him where he was, apparently still mentally present despite whatever was happening to him.

"Tony?" Bucky's alarm was so clear it might as well have been shouted. Pulling his hand out of Tony's he wrapped himself bodily around their third instead, holding him tightly as though that would make any kind of difference, if the repulsor pump lost power. "Shit, Tony! What did you do?"

Tony didn't answer, either unable to or too lost in his reaction to whatever the Cube was doing, and Bucky bit at his lip hard enough to draw blood. Steve could smell it.

He couldn't smell Tony's though, he realised after a beat. Whatever was happening, it wasn't going to make Tony bleed out. Well, not visibly, anyway. It might end up in some kind of internal injury that they couldn't detect, and that would--

 _ **FIXED!**_ the Cube declared happily. _**BETTER NOW! NOT DIE!**_

Tony tried to straighten up, but faltered and all but fell back into Bucky's arms. _well not because of that, anyway,_ he agreed. _thank you._

It took Steve a while to calm himself down. Tony was breathing hard, deep and fast, and Steve felt it as his mated gradually recovered from the shock of whatever had happened. Bucky never let him go for an instant, refusing to move an inch, even when Tony prodded insistently at the arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Their bond stabilised again, the flickering slowing, then stopping, and Tony's presence strengthening. In fact, he was steadier than before, more solid.

Steve felt a visceral shudder go through both his soulmates, and he wrapped up both of them in his arms, taking comfort in their warmth, their presence. They were all more or less in one piece, despite everything. He took a moment to bury his nose in Tony's hair and take a deep breath, steadying himself. "Tony?"

"I'm fine, Steve," Tony replied immediately, sounding tired enough to sleep for a week. "Better than before." One of his hands came up to rest against Steve's jaw. The other came up to rest on his chest. "I knew when I asked that the fix wouldn't be painless."

"We didn't," Bucky grumbled at him. "Little warning would've been nice."

Tony winced. "Sorry."

 _ **?????**_ the Cube sent them, not understanding the byplay.

The Cube's earlier comment about Tony not dying had gotten Steve thinking though. Tony might not have his biggest weakness anymore and Bucky had asked the Cube to hide the wings and tail that were so vulnerable. Tony and Bucky had done a decent job of keeping Tony alive in the now. Steve intended to make sure they all stayed alive through the end of the war and far beyond, if he could. _my turn,_ he said firmly, going back to using the bond to communicate. _can you make sure my soulmates have the same serum I do? Bucky thinks you gave him something similar already._

He got the impression of a scowl. _**FORCED.**_

Bucky snorted. _so was I._

Tony immediately turned to Bucky and reeled him in for a kiss. It took Steve a moment to work out why Tony felt so proud and happy, why he wanted to reward Bucky, but then the words registered. He waited for Tony to run out of air then pushed him aside just enough to follow suit. The way the bond between them all but overflowed made the Cube curious, and it prodded at them carefully. As though it was learning what they were and how they worked. Steve spared a moment to wonder how much it knew about people. If anything.

 _so,_ he asked again when he pulled back out of the kiss, _can you?_

Steve 'felt' the Cube peer at him, and suddenly felt like it was analysing him in every tiny detail it could. It made his hair want to stand on end.

Tony, however, scowled at him. _and if I don't want it?_ he asked acerbically.

 _ **DON'T WANT?**_ The Cube paused.

 _Tony,_ Steve told him, _no one could tell me what the effects of the serum they gave me would be, but, it's been almost five years, and if anything I look and feel younger than when I got it. Now Bucky probably has some version of it in him. I don't want to lose you to age before I go out._ He swallowed back a very physical lump in his throat. _I'm pretty sure that would all but destroy me._

Tony was staring at him like he'd never thought about that aspect of their relationship, but was, now. "Oh," he said softly, and Steve could feel him turning over the idea. _and what if Bucky's is less effective than yours?_

Bucky huffed at their third. _Knucklehead,_ he put in fondly. _you ain't listenin'. Steve wanted us all to have the same serum. not just you an' him._

 _And you're okay with that?_ Tony turned to stare at Bucky, that time.

Bucky shrugged. _don't change anythin' for me, so I don't much care. but I can't imagine livin' without both you idiots to keep me company._

Tony swallowed, and nodded. _that's not something I want to feel ever again,_ he agreed, making Steve go half limp in relief. _alright. but what about your arm?_

 _works fine. I'll cope,_ Bucky told him, but Steve could feel the hint of revulsion that Bucky was stomping down ruthlessly.

Steve shook his head. _Buck, we've got this one chance to make our changes to our own lives before we try to find a way to put the Cube out of the world's reach. You want to ask it to do something about that arm, you better speak up now._

 _ **ARM?**_ The Cube asked, _**BUT FIXED ARM LAST TIME.**_

Bucky made a sound that approximated a chuckle. _yeah, ya did. but people aren't meant to have metal limbs._

The Cube felt like it gave Bucky a skeptical look, and Steve couldn't help but find the mental image comical.

 _ **REPLACE?**_ it asked.

Tony jumped in. _can you put back his real arm, that he had before?_

 _ **NO. WAS TOO DAMAGED. COULD NOT HEAL.**_ The Cube told them, with an apologetic air.

Tony's expression went dark and angry, and Steve just knew he was about to say something rash. _Tony no,_ he interjected. _now is not the time._

 _ **LATER.**_ The Cube decided. _**FIX SERUM?**_

Diverted, but not entirely happy about it, Tony subsided. _okay,_ he agreed, giving Steve a look that spoke volumes about how much he wanted to pursue the point of fixing Bucky's arm right then, _fix serum._

Pleased again, the Cube went to work. Both of his soulmates tensed. Steve could feel the way they went rigid. He felt nothing, but Bucky was making faces that said he had no idea what he was feeling. His expression never settled on one emotion, whatever he was allowing to show fading into the next feeling almost as soon as it appeared on his features.

Tony was acting much the same, though his reactions had a different more physical focus. It was as though he suddenly felt every touch more intensely. His eyes had gone wide the moment the Cube had started doing whatever it was doing, and he'd gingerly run his fingertips over the fabric of Bucky's shirt. Then his own. Then he'd puffed up like a bird in the winter, every feather rising and his skin breaking out in goosebumps. His eyes dark, Tony looked up at him, and Steve felt like he was falling forward into an unfathomably deep pool of water.

 _this... will take some getting used to,_ Tony told him when he relaxed again.

Bucky huffed at him. _you didn't just shoot up almost ten inches or put on a hundred pounds. count your blessings._

Steve shrugged. _we made it work,_ he said mildly.

Bucky scowled at him. "Yeah, after a coupl'a months of near misses. We might not'a been sleeping together openly, then, but I lost count'a the number of times people almost walked in on us touchin', on me tryin'a relearn ya. Punk."

Before Steve could answer, the Cube whipped them right back out of that line of conversation. _**ARM?**_

 _yeah, arm,_ Bucky said in the bond, switching back to that mode of communication as easy as breathing. _you remember the first time we met?_ he asked it.

_**FIRST TIME?** _

Steve tried to offer it a mental image of Fort Benedictin, not sure if that would work.

The Cube was silent for a few seconds. Then, _**OH. ALL WERE UNDER CONTROL. BEFORE INJURY.**_

 _we were,_ Steve told it. _can you make it so Bucky's arm is like it was, then?_

 _ **NOT POSSIBLE,**_ it said, sounding heart-wrenchingly sad. As though disappointed in itself, for being unable to help.

Steve, for his part, was more than a little bit relieved that there were limits to what it could do, even as he forced himself to accept that Bucky's injury was too much for the Cube to repair. He didn't understand why, when it had managed to heal Tony, and given him wings and a tail to start with, but the idea of limitless power? The ability to change the laws of the universe? That was a much worse prospect than Bucky having a functional arm, even if it was metal rather than flesh.

 _can ya make it so that the arm looks and feels like my other one, then? same weight an' give an' everythin'?_ Bucky asked instead.

The Cube seemed to perk back up. _**ALSO EASY!**_


	49. [Bucky POV]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus we reach the end of this ridiculously long journey. The boys still have a ton of adventures waiting in store for them, but this one is wrapped up. I've had a great time chatting with y'all in the comments, and I hope you did too.

In the hour and a half it took Jarvis and Rhodes to finish refueling the airship and then the two hours it took them to cross back out of French airspace, the three of them rested, recovering from the new changes they'd need to adapt to. The Cube, as though satisfied by their requests, had stopped nagging at Tony. The eerie blue tinge had left Tony's end of the bond, letting them all relax.

Tony had put the Cube back in the leather bag he'd taken it from, and then let himself drop out of their bond. Physically, he'd peeled himself out of their arms long enough to sprawl out across his bed on his back.

"I feel... strange," he said quietly. "Lighter, maybe? And it's like I have twice as many nerve endings."

Steve hadn't hesitated to join him on the bed, with an amused huff. "That's the serum," he confirmed with a nod, wrapping himself bodily around Tony and taking comfort in the touch.

Bucky could tell he was still more than a little bit shaken after what the Cube had done to get rid of the repulsor pump. He, on the other hand, had taken himself into the ensuite bathroom and let himself just breathe. He'd needed to process everything that had just happened. He was off balance and he knew it. He needed to find his equilibrium again.

The way the bootleg serum in his own veins had been transmuted was making his own senses do some confusing loop-the-loops, similar to what Tony had just described, but it wasn't enough to do more than just metaphorically stagger him a little. He wasn't reeling. Not really. He could feel a bit more detail under his fingertips, hear a little better. See a little more detail. But it was nothing like the changes Steve had undergone, and Tony was undergoing.

Despite that, though, he couldn't help the way his breathing was a little harsh and his hands gripped the edge of the sink hard enough to make his knuckles go white.

"Bucky?" Tony's voice rang out roughly behind him and to his right, sounding concerned, "You alright?"

A few seconds later, Steve appeared in the bathroom door and caught his eyes in the mirror. "You're upset," he stated openly.

Bucky huffed at him. "Ricochet," he replied succinctly.

That got Steve to roll his eyes. "It's been a hell of a day," he said quietly, turning the honest truth into one whopper of an understatement. "We'll take a shower and then join Tony."

"Don't you dare be cute without me again," Tony demanded, copping to the fact that he was shamelessly listening in. "If I didn't already know for a fact that you don't both fit in that shower at the same time, I'd be jealous."

Bucky sighed, letting it turn into a chuckle, and let his head fall back for a moment. Steve stepped up behind him so that it landed on a broad, well-muscled shoulder.

"We still have to decide what to do with the Cube," Bucky pointed out, not quite ready to be fully distracted yet.

Steve made a face. "I know. But first I want to get clean." He prodded at Bucky. "Strip down."

Knowing that resistance was futile, Bucky did as he was told. Once he got himself moving, it didn't take him long to strip off his dirty uniform. Tony's modifications hadn't extended to the fastenings, so he could just undo the button and fly on his pants and shove them off over his hips. His jacket was a little more involved, what with the many buttons it had, but he'd done it up and taken it off so many times that his hands moved automatically.

Of course, it helped that he wanted to feel the hot water of the shower wash the grime and the lingering feeling of 'mission' off of his skin. Once he'd stripped down, he stepped into the small cubicle and started the water running, waiting until it had heated up all the way before he picked up the bar of plain soap sitting in the dish.

He could feel Steve's eyes lingering on him, and the mix of affection and lust in their bond, as he cleaned himself up, and it was nice. He wanted to linger in it, wallow in the feeling until he could remember nothing else. Think about nothing else.

To his annoyance, Steve chivvied him out of the shower rather than allow him to just let the water run over him, though, making Bucky scowl as he dried himself off. But then, on the other hand, he could return the favor and watch Steve clean himself up. 

Even knowing that the sight would get him riled up, Bucky couldn't resist. He let his eyes linger as Steve's hands ran over his chest and arms, then down muscular thighs and back up between them.

Steve was putting on a show, Bucky realized belatedly, when his mated raised his eyes long enough to smirk at him knowingly. "You're looking like you need some attention, Buck," his lover told him.

From the bedroom Tony made an aggravated sound. "Hurry your asses up and get back here," he grumbled. "I need some attention, too."

Steve sniggered. "Keep your pants on," he called back.

"That's the opposite of what I'd intended to do," Tony retorted.

Bucky shook his head, fond amusement running through him in a way that somehow complemented the lust rather than shoving it aside. "Come on, Steve," he said, "dry off and let's go offer our demanding soulmate some attention."

Tony muttered something Bucky couldn't make out as Steve toweled the water back off his body. And then Bucky was left staring at his back and ass, which flexed distractingly as Steve walked past him into the bedroom.

Bucky made sure he wouldn't trip over his own feet as he followed and took the opportunity to plaster himself against Steve's back, and hook his chin over Steve's shoulder. "So what's the plan, Captain?" he teased. 

"The plan," Steve said with an audible smile, as a wave of want and heat washed over them both, "is to have you under me and Tony behind me as I work you over."

Bucky could see Tony's eyes go wide. "Goddamn," he hissed, "the mouth on you. Come here, yes, let's do it."

Tony rolled to his feet and caught Bucky's eyes. "On the bed then, Bucky."

A shudder went through him, and Bucky wordlessly followed orders. That was a command he didn't mind one bit. He wanted -- no, needed -- his soulmates in and over and around him. Needed to see and smell and taste them. "Got your supplies handy?" he asked as he arranged himself comfortably on the mattress. 

Tony huffed at him, mock offended. "Of course I do."

"Then get them," Steve suggested. "I want more than just your hands this time."

That statement got him a choked but very interested sound from Tony, who turned hastily away from the bed to rummage in one of his desk drawers. "You sure about that?" he asked dubiously. "Have you ever tried that before?" 

Steve raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, I'm sure, and, no, I haven't," he answered. "Quit worrying and do it."

Tony growled something about overconfidence that Bucky ignored, but didn't argue any further. "Fine," he said decisively, "get on the bed, then. Hands and knees."

Bucky grinned up at Steve once his mated was looming over him, then reached up to run his hands over Steve's skin, caressing and teasing. "This is nice," he commented. "Good view."

"Yeah?" Steve huffed at him, smiling, and leaned down to drop a chaste kiss on his lips. "I thought you were more interested in the sex than the view."

Bucky watched Tony move into position as he let his hands linger over Steve's flanks and chest, then ever so slowly inched his fingers down along the trail of fine blond hair that led to Steve's cock. "Well sure I'm interested. That'll be the high point of the night. But that don't mean the rest won't be fun."

Tony shook his head at them, mock sadly. "Get my soulmates in bed together and all they do is banter," he put in, trying to sound critical but missing by a country mile. 

Steve's left hand came up, leaving him balancing on his right, and buried itself in Bucky's hair before closing and pulling lightly. Carefully. "Might look that way, Tony," he answered, "but we're doing a lot more than that."

Bucky leaned willingly into the pull on his scalp, letting Steve move his head. "That so, Punk?"

"Need a reminder, Jerk?" Steve grinned back at him and leaned in for a fierce kiss that took Bucky's breath away. 

Tony made a pleased sound. "The pair of you make a very pretty picture, you know," he told them, watching them enjoy one another as he started working Steve open.

Steve made some strange faces into the kiss but didn't pull away from Tony's hand. Bucky took the opportunity to slide his hand down just enough to take Steve's cock in hand and tease the head with his fingertips.

Steve groaned deep in his chest at the touch then broke the kiss with a gasp. "Buck," he gritted out, "you do that and I'm not gonna last."

"So?" Bucky asked him, not letting up, "Is that a problem? I thought you could go more than once if you wanted."

Tony laughed. "Wanting to hasn't been enough to let me do that in years," he put in. "I'm pretty sure it takes more than wanting, Bucky." 

"Not since that serum of his," Bucky replied, able to hear the glee and anticipation in his own voice. "He got all shy about taking care of himself for a few weeks before I pried it out of him."

Steve bit at his lip in response to something Tony did. "Wasn't like I had any other outlet," he shot back. "Not til recently."

Tony just shook his head and leaned forward to set his teeth briefly at the nape of Steve's neck as his free hand trailed over Steve's broad chest. "Well, now we can have some proper fun with that," he pointed out. "You have two soulmates to satisfy."

Considering that for a beat, Steve hesitated. Then he nodded. "Sound logic," he conceded.

Without warning, his hand left Bucky's hair and traveled quickly down the length of Bucky's arm and over his hip. 

Bucky bit at his lip. 

Tony sat back on his heels at almost the same time. "You ready for this, Steve?"

"Do it," Steve demanded. 

With a nod, Tony was leaning forward again, at a slightly different angle, pressing slowly in. Bucky would have sworn he was the one being filled, if he hadn't known intimately that that wasn't true. Somehow, for all that they weren't actively using their bond at all, it was making things better. Or maybe it was the serum. Bucky couldn't be sure. But the feelings of connection and want and heat that were sending him reeling were more intense than he'd yet felt, even when he'd been fooling around with Tony before this. Apparently, now that their bond had settled more, they also felt the sex more. 

Steve gritted his teeth and his breath hissed out between them once, twice, and then he relaxed all at once and reverently breathed out Tony's name. 

Tony, for his part, looked more than a little bit overwhelmed. "Wow," he managed.

"Move," Steve demanded, and braced his hands against the headboard.

Tony didn't hesitate, but his movements were careful until he was sure Steve was ready, and then he stopped holding back. With every thrust, his wings beat in a short flutter that had to be subconscious, but lent enough force to his movements that he rocked Steve on his hands and knees. "Steve--" Tony managed to grit out. "Steve!"

"Yeah." Steve, for his part, had his eyes clenched tightly shut and and expression of rapture on his face. He was fighting for air and just letting Tony wreck him, for the most part. Every so often, he would reach down, his eyes still closed, and run one hand over Bucky's skin while he balanced a bit precariously on the other. "Tony! More!"

Watching them, feeling their ecstasy transfer over the bond, Bucky couldn't do more than squirm as he responded to their touches and try not to come too soon. He wanted both of them to have their hands all over him -- and preferably their mouths too -- when he hit that peak and tipped over it. This was nice, but wouldn't be quite enough to satisfy him, and he knew it.

It didn't take long for Steve to come with a low whine and a flash of heat that came through over their bond, spilling over Bucky's belly and chest and radiating their satisfaction, as Tony's movements came to a jerky halt. The pair of them simply stayed where they were for a few long seconds, catching their breath and letting themselves come down off the high a little.

"Hey," Bucky threaded his hands into Steve's hair and pulled his mated down into a hug, holding him close while Tony pulled out, "you okay there?" he asked as Steve caught his breath again.

"I? Am fantastic," Steve declared.

Then, almost before Bucky could process what was happening, Steve had pushed himself upright until he was kneeling over him, and then proceeded to line himself up and impale himself on Bucky's cock. 

Bucky writhed and swore as the heat rushed through him, spreading from his groin to his hands, face, and toes and making him feel like he was burning up. Flaring like a matchhead struck on brick. 

"Bucky," he said, contentment and pleasure filling his voice and their bond, "you feel amazing."

"Steve," was all he could get out. Full sentences would have to happen later. Steve wasn't hard again yet, but Bucky knew from experience that it wouldn't be long, now that Steve was actively trying for more, rather than resisting the demands of his body.

Sure enough, a couple of breaths later, Steve reached down to pick up Bucky's right hand and guide it to his cock, encouraging him to touch and tease some more.

Bucky didn't hesitate to take the invitation. He wrapped his hand firmly around Steve, working his mated's cock as it started to fill again, and used the left to grip Steve's hip.

Tony watched them, with a very smug expression on his face. "It's wonderful, isn't it, Bucky? Hot and slick and everything you ever wanted."

Bucky groaned, feeling the sound resonate deep in his chest. Tony was right, damn him, but there was no way he could spare the breath to tell him so.

Steve chuckled at him, squirming a little until he was in a position he liked better. "Feels damned good from the other side too, Tony."

It was unfair. They'd both come once already, and could manage to speak coherently. In an attempt to take his revenge, Bucky used the hold he had on Steve's hip to try to urge Steve to start moving. He didn't have too much leverage, though, so he only halfway succeeded before Tony, not about to be left out, swore a blue streak and laid himself out next to Steve's leg. Unhesitatingly, their third leaned over to take Steve's cock in his mouth, and got Steve to swear, in turn.

Seeing that, Bucky lost his hold on even halfway coherent thought as they moved together, intent on chasing their pleasure until they all tumbled over the knife edge into orgasm once more. Tony, Bucky suspected, had a hand on his own dick. Not that he or Steve minded that any.

His next conscious realization, coming down off an orgasmic high like he had never felt before, was that they were filthy again. "We're going to have to shower again before we moor," he grumbled, not all that upset about it.

"Worth it," Tony declared.

"Sleep first," Steve put in firmly, and the room fell silent. 

In the next few hours they'd have to debate how to handle their upcoming debriefing. And how to hide the Cube's presence from their Commanding Officers.

They hadn't reached any kind of consensus yet, but they would have to.

Eventually they'd also have to deal with Baron Zemo, who was still out there somewhere.

But all of those were problems that could wait until after they'd rested for a while. Some were far more long term than even that. As far as he was concerned, the important thing was that they were together, and intended to stay that way. The Cube, if it had truly done what they'd asked, had made it possible for them to get through the war. With some luck, they'd be able to get Zemo before it ended, too.

Bucky let his eyes fall shut, the feeling of having his soulmates wrapped around him, skin on skin, soothing and lulling him until even those big worries faded away under the weight of his contentment.

"Sleep," Tony mumbled at him. "Thinking too loud."

Steve made a vague noise of agreement.

Bucky gave in, letting himself sprawl comfortably over both of them, making sure that as much as possible of their skin was touching, as the airship bore both teams up and away from France and toward the unknown. He knew he would be forever watching over his soulmates, keeping an eye out for possible threats to them. Keeping his eyes turned skyward, in Tony's case.

They were worth it. Worth all the pain they'd fought through to get here. And worth whatever lay in wait for them in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \---FIN---

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [OPERATION HELLFIRE](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16208264) by [antigrav_vector](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antigrav_vector/pseuds/antigrav_vector)
  * [Soar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16425809) by [cobaltmoony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cobaltmoony/pseuds/cobaltmoony)




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